


Tarnished Hero

by 1MissMolly



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Abuse off screen mentioned, Friendship, Homelessness, Nothing described, Protective James Bond, Q grows up, Rape off screen mentioned, Underage Q, Underage off screen, not sure how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4372142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1MissMolly/pseuds/1MissMolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James Bond helps a homeless boy after retuning from Africa. He needs to find a bomber but he can't seem to abandon the remarkable young man he just saved from a beating. And keeps saving. </p><p>The growing relationship between James and Q over the course of time and James' mission. From Casino Royale to Skyfall and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not exactly sure how this story is going to go. I'm not planning on any smut and this will be a very plot driven story. I hope you like it. It will be different from my other stories.

Bond hurried down the pavement. M had caught him in her flat. He had been trying to break into MI6’s mainframe using her computer but didn’t get far before she arrived home. He needed to get some distance before she changed her mind and had him arrested. He had carefully hidden the stolen mobile in his pocket but he couldn’t hide the fact he had been using her computer. Even the verbal sparring wasn’t enough to distract her from the open laptop.

He had hurried out of the flat and was now walking down the street. It was late and the block was mostly empty. He was concentrating on the information he had from the bomber, Mollaka. A nonbeliever. A killer for hire. Bond was glad he had shot the man. There was no reason to believe that Mollaka would suddenly developed a conscience and give up bomb making and killing people of money. The problem was he didn’t know who had just hired him or what the next target was going to be. He needed to find out where the phone call came from so he could stop the next terrorist attack.

He rounded the corner and saw the four men. Three standing and one on the ground. A mugging. He slipped his hand to his pocket and felt the weight of the Kel Tec P-32. It was a small .380 but it would do the trick if need be. Then Bond remembered he was in England, not Madagascar. Shooting strangers on the streets was frowned upon here. He wondered if he should get involved. What would M say if he was given an ASBO on top of everything else? Bond decided it wasn’t his responsibility. The CCTV would see the assailants. He didn’t need to intervene. Then he heard it. The victim called out at his attackers. It wasn’t a man but a boy. Maybe sixteen, maybe younger. Damn it.

He had just left a country were warlords trained young children, boys as young as eight to kill. Where children of both sexes were bought and sold like cattle. That wasn’t going to happen here. Not here in his home, not in London. He turned to walk directly at the group of men. When he was less than twenty feet, he called out.

“Leave him alone.” His voice was deep and threatening. There was no question that Bond meant business.

The three assailants turned and looked at the agent. They couldn’t be older than twenty themselves. Change of plan. No gun.

“What the fuck do you care? Get out of here.”

“I said back off.” Bond looked down to see the young man balled up and covering his head.

“Look, when we’re done you can fuck him too.” The tallest thug growled at Bond. That did it.

Bond stepped up to the tallest man, he glanced at him quickly and decide he was nineteen maybe twenty but not older. “Leave now and you won’t be hurt.”

The thug smiled as he quickly pulled a knife out and waved it under James’ nose. The agent smirked as his left hand grabbed the man’s wrist and his right punched hard into the man’s solar plexus. The boy grunted as he collapsed down to the ground. Bond easily twisting the knife out of his grip. The second man stood dumbfounded staring at Bond as the agent quickly kicked and hyper flexed the man’s knee. He called out in pain and he too collapsed. The third man took one look at his two friends and then took off running.

The first criminal stood trying to catch his breath. Bond chopped the edge of this hand into the man’s neck. The man gasped as he fell again. Then Bond went to the boy who was curled up on the ground. He knelt down and gently put his hand on the boy’s back. The small head moved and the dark hair shifted. James looked in to the frightened face of a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen.

“You okay?”

The boy didn’t answer he just watched as the two other men struggled to their feet only to grab hold of each other and stumble off into the darkness. The young man looked back up into Bond’s face. The older man could see the bruises around his face and the split lip. In the weak street lamp the blood looked black as it traced down the young man’s chin.

“Where’s home?” Bond asked looking at the boy.

“No home.” He finally answered.

Bond looked at the boy. He couldn’t believe someone so young could be homeless in London.

“What is your name?”

The young man tried to scoot away from the blonde but James stayed close and non-threating.

“Q.”

“That’s a letter not a name. Try again.”

“Q is for Quain. Everyone calls me Q.”

Bond smiled at the boy. “Quain means clever.”

“Yes, it’s French.”

Bond smiled more and stood up. He held his hand out for the young man to take. Q looked at it suspiciously then stood up without assistance.

“Alright Q, now tell me how old you are?”

“Young enough you would get into serious trouble if you try anything.”

Bond wanted to cuff the young man for the comment but knowing he was homeless, he probably was propositioned routinely.

“You’re not my type.” James shoved his hands into his pockets and looked around to see if they were being watched.

“Oh, male?”

“No, immature.”

Bond could see the stunned expression on the boy’s face. He apparently got a lot of offers.

“Com’ on. When was the last time you ate?”

“I’m fine. Don’t fret yourself.”

“There’s a Pret down the road.” James pointed at the red and white sign. “Let me buy you some soup or something.”

“Why?”

Bond looked down at the boy. He was wondering why too.

“I just beat up three guys for you. It’s the least you can do for me.”

“You only assaulted two of them. The third fled of his own volition. But I wouldn’t decline a cup of tea.”

“You will have milk and eat a sandwich. Com’ on.” James took a step and was pleased to see the young man step up next to him. It was a short block to the small cafe. They were the only customers and the owner seemed unhappy to see them. He apparently wanted to close up early for the night.

James ordered coffee for himself but let Q order whatever he wanted. The young man requested the chicken soup and a turkey sandwich. Bond watched the boy eat the food quickly. Not wasting time with a spoon on the soup, Q picked up the container and drank the contents rapidly.

“How long since your last meal?”

Q looked up over the rim of the paper cup. He had big hazel eyes with jade green tones. His dark eyelashes were a smudge across the pale creamy skin.

“A few days,” Q said as he lowered the bowl. “Do you always come to the rescue of strangers?”

James curled the corner of his mouth. Yes, James Bond, knight in tarnished armor to the rescue.

“I’ve been known to stick my nose in where others might not want it.”

Q smiled and James found it adorable. Then James noticed the bruises again on the side of Q’s face. A slap from a hand, the print left from earlier.

“Who were those other boys?” James asked casually as he lifted his coffee cup.

“Are you a cop? Is that why you came to help me?”

“No. Just a bystander.”

“A bystander with a gun in his front pocket.” Q’s eyes blinked at the man. James shifted back in his seat and looked around to see if Q had been overheard.

“Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it is true.”

“You haven’t learned yet that sometimes it not wise to tell the truth.”

“Oh,” Q looked down at the remains of his sandwich. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“You avoid the law too. You’re not a Samaritan. You’re . . . something else. I don’t do . . .”

“I’m not asking before you say anything else. Like I said before, you are not my type.”

“I don’t understand then, why?”

“Why am I helping you? Well right now, I don’t know. But I don’t like seeing three big guys beat up a little guy.”

Q nodded. He took another bite of his sandwich and looked over at the counter.

“Do you want something to go?” James asked.

“Tea, but you said no. Another sandwich would be nice for later.”

“Sure, but first answer my questions.”

“You are very inquisitive for someone not interested in me.”

“Exactly. Where does a street rat learns words like inquisitive and volition, or the meaning of French words? You’ve got quick eye for details and a smart mouth. How old are you?”

Q swallowed the mouthful he had and took another sip of soup.

“To answer your second question first, I’m fourteen. I learned those words at home and living on the street makes you quick eyed.”

“You’ve come from an educated family then?”

“Mother, she’s dead. No father.” Q bowed his head and went back to eating.

“Sorry, I’m an orphan too.”

Q looked up at the man. He cocked his head to side for a moment then knotted his brow.

“Odd, I never thought of grownups being orphans. I mean of course orphans grow to be adults, I just never realized that grownups could also be alone.”

“Are you alone?” Bond asked taking another sip of coffee. He couldn’t understand why he was wasting time with this boy when he should be trying to figure out the target the bomber was hired for. There was just something unusual about the boy and Bond didn’t want to part with him just yet.

“Like I said, mother dead, no father. No family to take me in. They put me a group home. I lasted about a month. I’ve been on the streets for the past two years.”

It twisted in James’ stomach. A twelve year old boy abandoned to the streets.

“Where are you going to sleep tonight?”

“I have safe places.” Q said narrowing his eyes back at James.

“Places those three know about.” James watched as the expression shifted rapidly on Q’s face. The three bullies would know where to find Q if they wanted him. “Why were they beating you up?”

“I refused their offer of hospitality.”

“Hospitality?”

“They wanted me to be nice to them. I’m sure you can imagine how.” Q ducked his head and looked away.

“They were going to rape you, weren’t they?” James voice took up a hard edge. Q looked up at the man and saw the controlled anger burning in his vivid blue eyes.

“It’s happened before.”

“Have you been hurt?”

“I usually run away. But . . . I don’t want to talk about it.” Q busied his himself wrapping the left overs of his sandwich up in the paper it came in. “About that other sandwich?”

“You are coming home with me tonight. I have an extra bed and you will be safe.”

Q looked up. His eyes were wide and James could see him pale even more.

“I . . . no thank you. You’ve been very kind . . . but I told . . .”

“I’m not expecting anything from you and I will not let you go out there tonight knowing those three are looking for you. It’s a warm bed in a safe place. Don’t worry.”

Q cocked his head to side. “Shouldn’t you be worry, I mean, taking in a complete stranger off the street? Who knows? I might be a serial killer.”

James laughed out loud. “I’ll take my chances with someone who weighs less than eight stone sopping wet.”

Q pouted at that. He dropped his hands in his lap and stared down at the table.

“No one ever takes me seriously."

“Not when you look like a character from ‘Oliver’.”

“Bill Sikes was from ‘Oliver’ and he was a murderer.”

James shook his head. Q was a very remarkable young man.

~Q~

James Bond’s flat was in the City. It was a tall building with two men sitting at the reception desk. Q looked sideways at them as Bond and he entered the glass and marble entry. The two men nodded at Bond but did not say anything. Apparently, bring an underage boy into one’s flat didn’t faze anyone here. That thought frightened Q.

James slid the key card and the lift opened. Q looked inside and wondered if he could run to the exit before the three men caught him. James stepped inside the lift and turned to see Q still standing outside the doors.

“It works better if you ride inside it.” James said lifting his eyebrow. He saw the hesitation in Q’s face. “Really, do you think if I was going to try anything, I would bring you to my home? Some place with witnesses.” He nodded over to the desk. The two men were watching them.

Q shrugged and stepped into the lift. At least he would be dry and warm here, he thought. The doors closed silently and the lift rose.

“Do you bring a lot of boys home to your flat?” Q asked.

“I don’t bring anyone here.”

“The guards didn’t seem surprised.”

“They are paid very well to not be surprised.” Q looked up at the man then took a step sideways. “You still don’t trust me? Good. Never trust anyone, you’ll live longer that way.”

The doors opened and James stepped out onto a floor. There were two doors. One on the left and another on the right. James went the right hand door and pressed in a key code. The lock clicked and he opened the door.

The apartment was spacious. The furnishings conservative. There was a low sofa and matching chairs in dark leather with a black wooden coffee table. The fireplace was small with a plaster mantel. A single framed picture sat on the mantel of James and another man. They appeared to have been fishing and both blonde men smiled out at the camera while holding some large saltwater fish.

The walls of the living room were painted dark brown and only an occasional painting interrupted the smooth surfaces. The floor was wood parquet with several oriental rugs about. The opposite wall from the front door was a bank of windows, floor to ceiling. The lights of London shined through the sheer curtains.

James turned on the lamp next to the sofa and stepped over to close the blackout curtains. The room seemed smaller with the curtains drawn but the elegance increased. It smell of cinnamon and spices. It was warm and comforting.

James passed through an open doorway and into what Q could see was a small kitchen. Bond returned with a bottle of scotch and a single glass. He grabbed a laptop that had been sitting on the coffee table and opened it as he sat down on the couch.

“Down the hallway, first door on the left in the guest bedroom. The loo is the second door. I have work to do, so just go to bed.”

Q looked around the room deciding what he should do. Run or stay.

“What kind of work?” He asked not really caring.

“Nothing you need to know about.” James cracked the seal on the bottle of scotch. He powered up the laptop and set it down on the leather couch.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

“Do what? Drink?” James said looking up at the boy.

“No, leave your laptop on the sofa like that while it is running. The fan can’t cool it properly and you will compromise the motherboard.” Q took a step forward and moved the computer from the sofa and set it down on the coffee table. “Nice laptop. Custom?”

“My business designed it for me.” James said eyeing the young man. “Do you know anything about computers?”

“I’m an expert.”

Bond laughed. “Sure of yourself. At fourteen you’re an expert?”

“Yes.” Q said with a certainty that made Bond quit laughing.

“How? You’ve been on the streets for two years?”

“I guess you could call me a prodigy. I was using computers when I was five. My first hack was when I was eight. My mum was getting me special tutors when she died. I can negotiate any system you put before me.”

“Really?” James raised an eyebrow. “How have you been able to keep your skill up on the streets?”

“Libraries.”

“Libraries?”

“Yes, libraries have computers in them. The uni ones are open all night long. I just sneak in and help myself.”

James smiled at the boy’s ingenuity. He pulled the mobile from his pocket and opened the call log on it.

“Have you ever hacked into governmental servers?” James had not been able to get all of the information he needed from M’s computer when she came home. “Hack without being traced?”

“Which ones? I’ve already hacked most. Believe it or not National Health is the most difficult to get through. Not because of their firewall, but because it is so antiquated and inefficient.”

This could backfire on him but it would help him track the terrorist who had hired Mollaka.

“MI6. And you can’t be caught.”

Q raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at the man. “Why?”

“Because I need information.”

“And I need to leave.” Q took two steps towards the door. James didn’t expect the boy to have morals.

“I’m not a terrorist. I need to track down who ever made a call.”

Q stopped and looked over at the man. “What kind of call?”

“A mobile.”

“Do you have the mobile still?”

“Yes and I have the call log. I just need to know where the caller was when he made the call.”

“Well, you don’t need MI6 for that. Give me the phone.” Q held his hand out. James looked at it but kept his hand closed over the phone.

“This is very important. I can’t let anything happen to this phone.”

Q rolled his eyes and sat down beside James on the couch. He pulled the laptop closer and started typing. Within less than a minute an international communication network came up on the screen.

“Alright, date, time, number called.”

James read off the numbers to Q as he typed rapidly. The boy had the screen dancing from page to page. In less than a minute, Q pulled his hands back and smiled.

“Bahamas, Paradise Island.”

“Where on the island?”

“Well, it looks like at this hotel.” Q pointed at the screen. “Does that help?”

Bond smiled at the boy. “You just paid for your dinner and a night’s sleep. Great job.” Bond closed the lap top and stood up. “I need to pack and get ready to leave. Just go to sleep and I’ll wake you in the morning before I leave.”

Q looked confused for a moment. Then leaned back into the sofa.

“You’re not worried I would notify MI6?”

“They’ll find me soon enough.”

Bond grabbed Q’s elbow and pulled him off the couch and shoved him towards the bedroom.

“Tomorrow.” He opened the door and pushed the young man into the room closing it behind him.

Q stood in the darkness for a few moments. He reached over and turned the lock on the door as silently as he could. Then he went over to the double bed after turning on the light. It had been a while since he had slept in a bed. It was soft and smelled good. He kicked his shoes off and laid down, pulling the covers over himself. Q wondered for a few moments who this strange man was. Someone who would rescue a stranger from an arse kicking. A man who lived in an expensive flat. Who didn’t expect anything from Q other than commit an act of treason. Q fell asleep wondering.

When he woke, James was already dressed in an expensive suit with his suitcase packed. He escorted Q out of the building and while he waited for the taxi, James gave Q five ten pound notes.

“If you ever need anything, call this number. They will be able to reach me.” He handed Q the card for Universal Exports. “Take care of yourself, Q. And get off the streets.”

James climbed into the back of the cab. Q watched as it drove away. He wondered how he was supposed to get off the streets.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After James returns from the Bahamas, Q has news for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the encouraging comments. I'm happy you are intrigued by story. It will be an emotional ride. As you can guess we are in Casino Royale right now. Just after James stopped the bombing at the airport in Miami and before he meets Verper Lynd.

It was a good mission. Bond had stopped the terrorist attack on the Skyfleet airliner. It had been a close call and the Miami police were less than happy to release him, but James had been successful. M had try to act furious with him. She hated it when he proved her wrong; but it was obvious she was proud of what he had done. The people behind the bombing would be looking for him now. Dimitrios’ dead wife was a complication too. It was a good thing Solange didn’t know anything.

He stepped out of the taxi and onto the pavement in front of his building. It was good to be home but he did miss the warm sunshine of the Bahamas over the London rain. Alec Trevelyan was standing just in front of the glass doors with a brown paper sack in his hands.

“Welcome home, mate.” Alec greeted his friend. Bond greeted Alec with a warm handshake and went to pull open the door for his building.

M had met with Bond in Bahamas and explained that Le Chiffre was behind the terrorist attack. The man was playing the market and had lost big. He was now in trouble with his terrorist clients for losing their money. Le Chiffre was holding a poker tournament in Montenegro, to recoup the losses. Bond had been tasked with preventing Le Chiffre from winning that tournament.

He had three days before he caught a train to Montenegro and the Casino Royale. In those three days, Bond planned to prepare for the tournament. He was already the best poker player in MI6 but he hadn’t played often in the last year. He planned on twenty-four hours marathon poker game. Alec agreed and Villiers and Bill Tanner would be joining them. Bond was sure that the brown sack contained at least two bottles of vodka. Hopefully, one bottle of scotch.

Bond grabbed the handle on the door when he heard the soft voice.

“James?”

Turning quickly, James saw the small face hiding next to the planters near the door.

“Q! What are you doing here?” James dropped his suitcase and stepped up to the boy.

Q’s eyes glanced over at Alec then back at James. “I was hoping . . . just maybe . . .” He looked at Alec again. “Never mind.”

Q turned and stepped away.

“Q, get over here. What happened?”

The boy stopped and but didn’t look at the man. “Nothing. I was just . . . I thought maybe you would like to buy me another sandwich.”

Bond stepped closer and tipped Q’s shoulder so the boy would face him. There was a new bruise on his face.

“Did they find you?” Bond asked softly.

“Not really. It was someone else. Someone who didn’t want to take no for an answer.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“I got away, but . . . I was hoping . . .” Q looked closer at James’ face. The older man had numerous cuts from his fight with the bomber at the Miami airport. “Did they find you instead?”

“Com’ on in.” James smiled. “Do you know how to play poker?” Q looked over at Alec. “Don’t worry, he’s safe. Two other friends will be coming over and they are okay too.”

Q stepped up to Bond and together the two of them walked into the building. Alec following them. As they got into the lift, Alec looked over at his friend. James could see the concern in Alec’s green eyes, but said nothing. As James opened his flat, he told Q to go to his room.

“He has a room here?” Alec asked standing in the doorway. Bond waved him in and waited till the door was closed on the bedroom.

“He’s fourteen and homeless.”

“James . . .” Alec closed the front door and set the liquor down. “This is not good. You know that. There are people to handle this instead of you.”

“He’s an orphan. You grew up in ‘care’, you know what it like. How long do you think someone like him is going to last. He’s been beat up and probably assaulted at least once.”

“And you think being an orphan too, you should be his guardian angel?”

“I just help him out when he asks. Nothing more.”

“He has a room here, James.” Alec stared his friend down.

“It’s nothing.” James went to his own bedroom. He tossed the suitcase on the bed and went to change his clothes. He pulled out an old navy t-shirt out and a pair of sweat pants. He opened his door and went and knocked on Q’s door. The boy opened the door slightly and looked at James.

“Here,” he held out the clothes. “Take a shower and change. You stink. Food will be here when you get out. Make sure you throw those clothes of yours into the washer.”

James went down the hall and back out to Alec who was setting up the table for the poker game. Alec looked at James then shook his head.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Of course, look who I got for friends.”

The phone rang and Bond answered it. Tanner and Villiers were in the lobby and the doormen were wondering if they should allow them up to the flat. Bond okayed it and informed the men that food was to be delivered shortly.

The men sat down and were playing their first hand when Q stepped out of the bathroom. The boy looked even younger in the clothes James had given him. The t-shirt hung loosely on his frame and exposed part of his bony shoulder. The boy had to hold up the sweats. His narrow hips unable to hold the pants up. His dark curls were plastered to his head and his pale skin was pink from the hot water.

Q was first frightened when he saw the four men, but then he looked at James and saw a soft smile. He stepped closer and the other men appraised the young boy before they returned to their cards.

“What are you playing?”

“Poker, Texas Hold’em. Are you familiar with the game?”

“Never played it. How does it go?”

James explained the rules and the ranking of the card hands as the other grabbed some food. Q nodded then watched two hands played.

“I think I get it. Can I play too?” The four men looked at each other.

“Are you sure?” Bond asked. “I’ll stake you if you really want too.”

“Yes, just could you . . . would you mind writing down the order of winning hands.” Q smiled weakly.

James laughed. It would be too easy to beat the young man at cards but maybe it would make Q relax and not be terrified of the four men. James quickly wrote down the information and told Q sit next to him.

“If you have any question, just lean over and whisper them to me and show me your hand.”

“That would be cheating.” Q said, looking indignant. James smiled.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”

James dealt the first hand and the game began. Alec was as good a player as James and they knew each other well. The ‘tells’ were there but difficult to see. Tanner and Villiers were unknown as players but not nearly as good as Alec and James. No one worried about Q.

The boy had the losing hand on the first two games. He knitted his brow and glared down at the cards. With Tanner’s deal, Q started playing more carefully. He watched the cards and ignored the player’s faces. That time Alec won, but Q had the second best hand. With Villiers’ deal, Q won.

Bond leaned over and explained Q needed to play against the other players not the cards.

“How do I do that?” The boy asked.

“Look at their faces and their bodies. Watch what they do when they have a winning hand and when they have a losing hand. Watch how they hold their cards and how they move their chips around. If someone is betting with the first turn, they may have three of a kind and are trying to build the pot. If they wait till the river, then they probably are worried their hand isn’t good enough.”

“Oh, okay.” The boy smiled and went back to concentrating on the cards.

The next four hands were won by James. Then Alec started winning, but Q always had a good hand, or he folded quickly. James and Alec picked up on it quickly, but Tanner and Villiers didn’t. Five hours into the game, Q and James had cleaned Tanner and Villiers out. Alec had almost as many chips as Q but less than James. Bond dealt the next hand. He had a two and Jack of hearts. The flop was two of clubs, four of hearts and nine of spades. Q and James checked but Alec bet. The turn was the nine of hearts. Alec stretched his neck, rolling his head, as his raised the pot again. Q grimaced as he matched Alec’s bet. James smiled and followed.

The river card was the two of spades. James had a full house. He remained as still as possible. Alec slid all of his chips into the pot. James matched his amount. Q looked at his cards again and pushed all of his chips in.

“Q are you sure?” James asked in a warning voice. Alec grunted.

“Let the boy learn not to play with fire.”

Q nodded and pulled the two hold cards up off the table and held them between his fingers. Alec tossed his cards down. A four and queen. Two pair. James smiled and dropped his cards on the table and showed everyone his full house. He reached for the pot.

“No James.” Q’s voice was soft and clear. He laid his two cards down. A pair of nines. Four of a kind.

“Bloody hell,” Tanner whispered. “Maybe we are sending the wrong man to Montenegro.”

Alec and James glared at Tanner. He quickly realized what he had said and duck his face.

“You’re leaving?” Q asked.

“In a few days. Yes.”

“Oh . . .” Q lowered his head. His fingers played with edges of the cards in front of him. “Ah, James if you don’t mind, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“Good idea. You look like you need some sleep.” James said redistributing the chips back out again.

Alec gathered the cards back together as he watched the boy stand up and grab hold of the sweat pants, to keep them up. Q walked around the table and down the hall. The four men could hear the door close to the spare bedroom, then the soft lock of the door.

“How long has this been going on?” Tanner asked.

“This is the second time he has been here. He’s just a friend. Nothing else.”

“Just checking, 007. Don’t want to be surprised by anything.”

James ignored the man and looked down the dark hall towards the bedrooms. He didn’t know why it bothered him that Q was upset by the news he was leaving. Maybe because he hoped Q would miss him, instead of missing the free food.

~Q~

When Q emerged from his room in the morning, James was the only one awake. Alec had commandeered James’ bed. Villiers was asleep on the couch and Tanner was in one of the chairs, snoring lightly. Q stepped into the kitchen to see James setting up the coffee maker.

“Good morning, James.”

“Q.”

The young man sat down at the table and looked around the room.

“I’m going to fix some breakfast. Everyone should know how to scramble some eggs. Let me teach you.”

“Only if there is tea involved.” Q rubbed his eyes. James smiled and pointed at the kettle.

“Well, fill it up and learn how to make your own.”

“I know how to make my own,” Q said begrudgingly.

The young man filled the glass kettle and set it down on the element. He plugged in in and pressed the switch.

“Cups, tea?”

James pointed to a cupboard to the right of the sink. Q crawled up on the edge of the counter and opened the door. He pulled down two mugs and a box of Earl Grey. Q held the box to his nose and breathed in deeply. James watched the boy with a fondness.

“You said you were leaving.” Q said as he crawled back down.

“Yes, in two days.”

“Will you be gone long?”

“Don’t know. Probably not. Believe it or not it is for a poker tournament.” James smiled. He pulled breakfast items from the refrigerator.

“Oh, I thought you were . . . never mind.” Q went back to the boiling water in the kettle.

The two men busied themselves with their own duties while the other men slept. Q sat silently at the table sipping his tea as James watched. He could tell Q was trying to build up his courage to tell James something.

“Q, you can trust me you know. You can tell me anything.”

Q took a deep sip of tea.

“There’s a guy, Donny.”

“Has he hurt you?”

“No, he . . . he wants to take care of me.”

James felt a sudden cold stab to his gut. “Take care of you how? Is he offering to be your pimp?”

Q frowned and turned his head to the side. “I’m not a rent boy! He doesn’t want that. He wants . . . me. He said he would watch out for me and keep me safe if . . . He likes me.”

“How old is he?”

“I don’t know seventeen, maybe eighteen.”

“And he wants you for himself. Is he homeless too?”

“Yeah, there is a group of them down by the tunnels under Vauxhall. He said we would be safe there. He has a gang to watch out for. He is smart and others are scared of him.”

James went and sat down beside the boy.

“Q, no. You can’t be thinking this is a good idea.”

“What other options do I have? If I went back to 'Chridren and Families' they would put me in group home with other runaways. It would be like prison. If I don’t have anyone watching out for me, then I’m prey to any weirdo on the street. Do you know what it is like to alone out there?”

James could see the tears forming at the corners of the boy’s eyes.

“Q, why are you telling me this?”

“I . . . I wanted to know what you thought about it.” Q looked down at his cup. “I wanted to know . . . maybe you had some other idea.”

“He’s going to put you out with a string of other boys for the punters.” James growled. He hated this Donny.

“NO, he said he wouldn’t! He said he liked me!”

“Q, you’re an intelligent young man. You know better. You can . . . I don’t know . . . get back into school. Find a real home. A family.”

“I don’t have a family and never will. You know that.”

James sat staring at the young boy. It was obvious why Q was there.

“I can’t take a fourteen year old boy in.”

Q blinked several times at the man.

“I’ll be fifteen next month.”

“You know that’s not the point. I’m rarely here. You need structure and proper protection. You need to be in school and going to dances and being a teenager. Not living on the streets and prostituting yourself for a warm place to sleep.”

The tears slipped from Q’s eyes.

“I said I’m not . . .”

“Yes you keep saying but listen to yourself. He wants you for himself and he guarantees you a warm bed and what? To not pass you around to his friends. Q think!”

“Would you have passed me around last night if you could?” Q’s voice took on an unnatural hardness.

James felt the implied slap to the face.

“Never. I don’t do things like that.”

“Well, maybe Donny doesn’t either. Maybe he’s just a noble as you are. Maybe even more, because taking care of me is more difficult for him than it would ever be for you. Maybe he sees more in me than you ever will. He likes me better than anyone else ever will.”

“Q, your only fourteen.” James pleaded again.

“Yeah, that only matters when people are trying to find reason for not helping me.”

Q stood and turned to leave. James reached out and grabbed the young man’s wrist. It felt so fragile under his grip. His callous fingers slipping around the smooth skin. Q paused and looked down at their joined arms.

“Q, I can’t do more than give you a place to sleep occasionally, but I know in my heart you don’t want to sell yourself to Donny. Please, let me find you a home or something?”

“Donny will be looking for me. I need to go. Enjoy your trip to Montenegro, James. I hope you win your game.”

Q turned away and pulled his wrist from James’ hand. The boy went back and changed into his street clothes. The other three men were still asleep when the door closed on the flat as Q left. James felt the weight of failure press down on his chest. He promised himself when he returned from Casino Royale, he would find Q and get him a real home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments feed the soul so please don't starve me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James returns for Italy to find Q waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning of Quantum of Solace. James is going though the emotional turmoil after Vesper. He has miss placed anger and Q catches the brunt of it. Don't hate me.

James sat in the chair and looked out over the Lake Como. It was a beautiful spot and the Italian sun felt warm on his face. His body was healing and soon, hopefully, he could be a man again. He had made a decision. He had had enough. After Le Chiffre had kidnapped him and tortured him, after Mathis’ betrayal, after Casino Royale, he was done. James had enough of killing and pain. Of regret and anger. He had seen the fear in her eyes. James couldn’t bear to see that again. He wanted to be human again. He wanted to live. She was a woman whom he could love. Vesper was beautiful and caring. She was gentle and kind. She was innocent. He was going to quit MI6 and spend the rest of his life being loved.

Two weeks later he was sailing along the Italian coast. The boat handled perfectly and Vesper took to the sea with the same enthusiasm he possessed. It was a wonderful life but something nagged in the back of James’ mind. Something that felt unfinished. Like when you wonder if you left the hob on. There was an unexplained itch he needed to scratch.

“What do we do after our ridiculously expensive vacation?” Vesper asked.

James wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned over her shoulder to kiss her cheek.

“We live.”

“Together?”

“Always. I want to protect you. Keep you safe. I want you to know how much I cherish you.”

He felt her fall back into his embrace. It felt wonderful. To be able to hold the one person you cared for so dearly. He wanted everyone to feel this good.

Then he remembered, _‘Maybe Donny is noble like you. Maybe Donny cares for me.’_ Q. The young man was with someone who claimed to care for him too. Bond wondered if Q had found someone who really would take care of him. Then he remembered the sadness in Q’s eyes. His stomach sank and he tightened his grip on Vesper. She whimpered and he let go.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

“Something scared you?”

“No. . . I’m sorry. I just . . . later I’ll explain.” He wanted to think about how he could introduce the idea of taking a fourteen year old runaway into his new life with Vesper. If he was no longer working for MI6 maybe could take care of both of them. They could be the one thing he had never had. A family.

They arrived in Venice on a sunny afternoon. The next day was their last morning together. Vesper’s urgencies to leave. The phone call from M about the money. The realization he had been played. Bond discovered the truth about Vesper. He learned the price for loving someone. The anger and bitter pain bore holes into him. He swore to himself he would see her dead for her betrayal.

He followed her through the streets and found her meeting with associates of Le Chiffre. He ran heedless after her into the old building. Killing everyone that stood between her and him. Then when everyone was dead, Vesper chose to die too. She plunged to her death, drowning in the dark waters of the sinking building. He sat on the ruins on the building’s roof looking at her still body. The rush of water around him and sound of sirens approaching. His dreams of their life together were gone. All that remained was a burning desire for revenge.

It appeared Bond had uncovered a major organization working in Europe, Quantum. Vesper final gift to James was a name. Bond had captured White, the man who had killed Le Chiffre. The link in the chain to Quantum. The people holding the leash. But White escaped when M’s personal bodyguard, Mitchel, had tried to kill her. His need for revenge spurred James on through the streets of Siena. The sight of Mitchel’s dead body fed the anger boiling inside Bond’s body. He left Italy with a cuts to his face and an empty hole in his soul.

He arrived back in London alone. Bond opened the door of his building and stepped into the foyer. It had been three months since had been here. He didn’t recognize the two new guards at reception. But the young man arguing with them he knew.

“It’s been months. Surely he’s called to let you know how much longer he will be.” Q pleaded with the men. The two guards looked disgusted at the boy.

Q was leaner than before, which Bond couldn’t believe. He was taller, he must have grown two inches. His pale face was flushed and Q’s hands were waving around in an excited motion. Q’s dark curls were longer and bounced as he moved his head. The clothes he wore were better than Bond remembered him wearing and they seemed to highlight the boy’s slim frame.

“Q.” James said coolly as he walked up behind the young man.

Q spun rapidly and looked up into James’ face. His jade green eyes were wide and blood shot. Q leaped forward and wrapped his arms around the tall blonde.

“James! Where have you been!?” Q gushed into the man’s coat. James didn’t return the hug.

“Away.” James looked at the two guards who were glaring back dispassionately. “Bond, James Bond. You must be new here.”

“Yes sir,” one of the men said unimpressed by the name. “Would you per chance have some identification on you, sir?”

“Certainly.” James reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and retrieved his wallet. It was difficult because Q was hanging on him. James removed his driver’s license and handed it over to the two men. They looked at it and immediately softened their expressions.

“Sir, we apologize. It is just this . . . boy has been here looking for you for two weeks now. He is very insistent.”

“It is alright. I was away longer than I planned. Where is Gordon?”

“Gordon? Mister Howard? He works morning now, sir.”

“Please check with Gordon. He will explain my absences.”

James grabbed Q’s upper arm none too gently and pulled the boy to the lift.

“Ow, James you’re hurting me.” Q whined as the older man pulled him into the lift.

“You stink of cannabis. What are you doing here? Where is Donny?”

“He got busted. He is in jail.” Q stepped back. Pulling himself for James’ grip.

James looked over at Q then scowled. “So why are you here? Looking for me to post bail?”

“I . . . no. I just wanted to see you. It’s been a while.”

“Yes, three months.”

The door opened and James stepped out and walked to his door. He pressed the key pad numbers and his front door clicked open. Stepping into his flat after being away for three months, he was glad he still employed a maid. The flat was clean and the air was fresh. She had been there recently and he was assured a clean bed to sleep in tonight.

“So what are you doing here? What do you want?” James questioned as he tossed his wool coat over the back of one of the leather chairs. The tone in his voice was harsh and unwelcoming.

“I just was worried about you. You’ve been away for so long. How was your poker tournament?” Q looked confused as he stood near the closed front door. He shifted from one foot to the other, afraid to enter any further into the flat.

“I won it. A hundred and forty million dollars.”

Q’s eyes grew large as he realized just what Bond had said. “Did you keep it?”

“Don’t ask for any money. It was stolen.” James turned and studied the boy’s face.

“I don’t need any money. I have . . . I didn’t come for money.”

Q was scratching at the crease of his elbow. He was restless and glancing everywhere except at Bond. James’ first assessment had been correct. Q had lost weight as well as grown. He was taller but he was down another fifteen pounds.

“Doesn’t that boyfriend of yours feed you?” James growled. “Or do you just smoke weed instead.”

“I . . . it was just a single joint. You’re not my father so don’t bitch at me.” Q went back to scratching his arm.

“Just a single joint.” Bond stepped closer and looked the young man over. “Why is Donny in jail? What did he get busted for?”

Q looked up at James and the older man could see the dilated eyes. Q’s breath was sour and he was beginning to shake.

“It was . . . drugs. He was holding for someone else and the cops caught him. It wasn’t even his stuff.”

James narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. Q looked up at the agent confused then yelped when James grabbed his wrist. Before Q could stop him, James had pulled the long sleeves up over Q’s elbows. The dark bruises were evident in the antecubital space. The thin red track line of injections.

“You think I’m stupid! Did Donny get you hooked or did you do this on your own?”

Q’s eyes widened and before he could yell at James, the older man shoved the boy backwards.

“Don’t you say a thing! Not after what you did!”

“What did I do? Get out. I’ve had enough of liars.” James stepped away, jerking down hard on the knot of his tie. He pulled the fabric away as he went to the cabinet where he kept his liquor. James grabbed a bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass. He turned around and glared at the frightened boy.

Q looked down at his arms then back up at James. He quickly pulled the sleeves down and hid the marks on his arms.

“It’s not . . . I didn’t . . . are you any better with your scotch!”

“Q, you’re high as a kite. You let this Donny fuck you over and take from you. Now you’re hooked on drugs. The hard stuff it looks like and why? A pretty smile? A soft word in your ear? Is he really worth it? Losing yourself to him?”

Q blinked several times, confused by James’ rant. He looked down at the floor.

“No one else would help me.” Q whispered.

“Bloody hell Q, don’t you know by now no one ever will. People just use you! Lie to you and steal from you. Grow a pair and start taking care of yourself!” The bitter self-loathing spilled into his words. James could sense he was talking to himself as much as the boy.

Q’s face reddened as the boy got angry. He balled his fists and started breathing hard.

“Don’t you dare criticize me! Not when you are . . . You don’t know what it is like out there for me!” Q shifted back and tipped his head up and said sarcastically, “Oh, you’re an orphan too, you know how we should live homeless! Fuck off!”

“You’re the one who came here. I didn’t come looking for you!” James took another drink. “Users! All of you, fucking users!”

“I am not a user! Shut up! Donny protects me and I take care of him.”

_‘I take care of him!’_ James thought. The bastard Donny had turned Q out on to the streets to whore. He threw the glass across the room. Shattering the lead crystal on the bricks around the fireplace. The crash was loud and Q ducked down, covering his head. He curled up into a tight ball and huddled there on the floor. The only thing James heard was the soft crying coming from the boy.

Bond didn’t want to deal with this. He was still raw from Vesper betrayal and now this boy was here trying to do what? Con him? Get money from him to help the boyfriend? Bond had lost his temper and Q was crying, frightened by the man. The last thing James ever wanted to do was frighten Q.

“Stand up.” James snapped.

Q looked up at the man but didn’t move. James growled and stepped closer. He grabbed Q’s arm and lifted the boy up off the floor to stand. Q whimpered and ducked his head.

“Are you hurt?” James asked assessing how much damage Donny had caused the boy and how much he had.

“No . . .” Q’s voice faded into the silence in the room.

“When was the last time you shot up?”

“Before I came here. I was afraid . . . I was afraid you wouldn’t be here and I didn’t want to . . . to be completely lucid if you weren’t.”

A knife cut deep inside Bond’s soul. “You didn’t want to be sober to face my absence.”

“No.” Q looked away.

James took a minute to look at the boy then he pulled Q close and hugged him. Q’s arms trapped at his side unable to move. It seemed like weeks since James had touch any one he wasn’t planning on killing. Q was the only person he thought he would ever touch again without wanting them dead.

“So, you need me to get Donny out of jail?” James asked.

Q seemed to pull tighter in on himself. “No.”

“You don’t want him back?”

“He’ll be out in a few days. I was just hoping . . . I should leave.” Q tried to pull away but Bond wouldn’t let go.

“You were hoping for a warm place to sleep until he returned for you.”

“You make me sound like a puppy or something.”

James sighed and finally let go of Q. He went into his kitchen and got the dust pan and broom. He crossed in front of Q and went to clean up the broken glass.

“When did you eat last?”

“I have my own money now.” James twisted and looked up at Q. A scowl covered the man’s face.

“Let me guess, prostitution.”

Q’s face turned red again. “No, cybercrimes, you arse!”

James stood up and looked confused for a moment.

“What?”

“Cybercrimes! I hacked a bank’s network and we stole two thousand six hundred and fifty pounds from their credit department!”

“You stole money from a bank?”

“What the bloody hell have I been saying?!”

James walked closer and looked down at the boy. “Q, what the hell were you thinking? You could get arrested for something like that. Serious time. Prison, not juvenile detention.”

“If we got caught. We won’t.”

“Is that what you used to buy the drugs? Donny made you steal the money so he could buy the drugs.”

Q was going to deny it but he stumbled over the words. He gave up and said nothing. Bond was correct. Donny was using Q. Donny saw the intelligence in the boy and Q’s need for someone to care for him. Donny manipulated the boy just as Vesper had manipulated Bond’s need to care for someone else.

“You haven’t answered my question. When was the last time you ate?”

“I’m not hungry.” Q tried and failed to not sound like a petulant child.

“When was the last time you ate?” James softened his voice.

“I . . . I don’t . . . I don’t remember.” Q refused to look James in the eye.

“Fine, I get something delivered. I have to go to work in the morning but I’m here for the rest of the night. We have things we need to talk about.”

“There’s nothing you could have to say to me.” Q found his courage again.

“Don’t assume just because you turned fifteen you’re too old to be bent over my knee and spanked.” James growled. Q’s face shot up and stared at the older man.

Q swallowed hard and James could see the faint blush over his pale skin. James realized it was the first time he had ever seen Q without a bruise on his pale boyish face. His long eyelashes fluttered across his ivory skin as Q blinked at James. Although, Q was thinner, he looked healthy. His clothes were clean and his hair had been washed recently.

“May we order Chinses?” Q finally asked.

“Mandurian or Szechuan?”

“Szechuan,” Q smiled.

~Q~

Bond sat on the sofa while Q sat opposite him on the floor with the coffee table between them. Several takeaway containers sat on the table top. Q was fumbling with his chopsticks while Bond was quickly eating the noodles from one box.

“Did Donny get you a computer to do your hacking with?” James asked watching Q covertly over the top of the box.

Q sighed and tossed the chopsticks down and picked up a fork. “Yeah, he got it somewhere and gave it to me.”

“You mean he stole it.” Q looked up at the man, then shrugged. He went back to chicken dish. “What are you going to do with all that money?”

“We got new clothes and some good food for once. Donny bought some . . . recreational things.”

“Drugs.”

“We have a real flat now! There are ten of us from the tunnels living there.” Q said excited. “Not as nice as this one, but no rats.” James huffed softly. “And Donny insisted I get a new computer. Not stolen, bought at a store. You should have seen the look on the clerks face when we paid with cash.”

“Careful spending all your money that way. You’ll draw attention to yourselves.”

Q looked up at James with his eyes wide and questioning. Something was playing at the back of his head.

“So now that you have a flat and real address,” James started. “Have you thought about going back to school?”

“School? Well, no. Do you think I should?”

“Yes. You are clever, Q. Maybe not as clever as you could be or should be.” Q knitted his eyebrows at the statement. “The drugs, idiot.” James glared at the boy. “But you could do well in school and get a real job. Have a future instead of waiting for the next score to make a living on.”

“Is that what you do?” Q asked looking carefully at the man.

“No.”

“So you don’t make your living playing cards?”

“You don’t have a nice flat like this living as a gambler. I’m . . . in international imports and exports.”

Q smiled at him. “I remember the card you gave me. I hacked their website. It’s a front for something.”

Bond felt the bottom fall out from underneath himself. Q had tried to hack into MI6. Well it wasn’t the first time he supposed. Q had said he had hacked into governmental networks. James had even asked him to do it, but the boy didn’t know who James really was. If he actually got through Universal Exports computers, he would found MI6’s firewall. The young man would have figured out Bond was not what he appeared to be.

“Why would you say that?” James set his food down and stared intently at Q.

The young man realized he admitted to something he shouldn’t have.

“There were . . . discrepancies in dates.”

“What?”

“Dates. Licensing dates. Order dates. Shipping dates. It’s minor but I saw it. Real businesses don’t ship things before they are ordered. Or ship on holidays or . . .”

“Dates!?”

“Yes,” Q tried to pull himself tighter and look smaller.

“You figured out it might be a front from dates?” James fell back into the sofa. How stupid could that be? A teenage boy was able to determine a major espionage cover was fake by simply looking at the dates. Technical Services was getting sloppy. It wasn’t surprising that fake passports and covers were being pulled in foreign countries. Dates!

“Q, you are wasting your time robbing banks. Go to school and get a degree. I know someplace that I would love to have you work at.”

“Where?”

“School first.”

“What about Donny?”

“You can do fucking better than him. Trust me.” James smiled and Q smiled back.

“Really?” He could hear the tension in the boy’s voice.

“Really.”

The next day, Bond left for Haiti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the wonderful comments. You have given me ideas in directions the story will be going.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James gets bad news returning from La Paz Bolivia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of domestic violence. Know your triggers and respect them.

Bond stepped off the plane at Heathrow from Bolivia in late November. He had been away from England for over five weeks. First going to Haiti, then Austria and finally Bolivia, chasing Dominic Greene and the members of Quantum. It had been a difficult mission but he finally had the information he wanted. Yusef Kabira’s location. He would pay the man a visit.

Bond was going to destroy Quantum for Vesper and Mathis. It was the least he could do. He had a ten hour layover before he and M would travel to Kazan, Russia. He wanted to go to his flat and shower and change. The light cotton clothes he had worn in La Paz were not up to a Russian November.

As he emerged from the jet ramp with the other passengers, he was greeted by his friend, Alec. Surprised, he stepped over to the man. Concern was etched deep in the lines on Alec’s face.

“I didn’t think you cared.” James said light heartedly as he neared his friend.

“I don’t.” Alec’s voice was harsh and deep.

James twisted and looked carefully at Alec. The two men started walking down the concourse to immigrations.

“You know the order was rescinded?” Bond was referring to the ‘Kill or Capture’ order M had given on him.

“Yes. No one took it serious except the Americans. Who did you piss off anyway?”

“Everyone.”

The two walked in silence a little longer until they approached the custom agents. A man in the blue uniform looked up and motioned for the men to approach his desk.

“Retuning from where?” He asked automatically.

“La Paz, Bolivia.” James answered handing over his false passport.

“Anything to declare?”

“No.”

The man gave it a cursory look then waved it under a reader. He watched as information appeared on his computer screen then mechanically stamped the ‘return’ section on the booklet. Handing it back, he looked at Alec for his passport.

Alec held up an identification card and let the man see it. It was a governmental identification that granted the holder free pass from all agencies. The immigration officer raised an eyebrow and sat up straighter.

“Sir,” he greeted Alec sharply.

Alec and James glanced at each other then walked away from the booth.

“You’re lucky he didn’t salute.” James smiled as they walk over to the luggage carrousels.

“Someone will pick up your suitcase later James. We need to see someone.”

James looked sideways at his friend. He believed he had been exonerated for going off mission in La Paz, but maybe he hadn’t.

“I’m supposed to meet with M in eight hours.”

“I know. We need to go hospital first.”

James remained quiet until they were in Alec’s car and heading back into the city.

“Who is it?” James asked from the passenger’s seat. A list of possible friends who would be in hospital was short.

“That little fluff you said didn’t matter, Q.”

James felt his stomach fall. He had left the young man standing on the pavement in front of his building five weeks ago. The young man stood with his arms wrapped around his thin frame watching Bond’s taxi pull away from the kerb.

“What happened?” James tried to calm his voice.

“A call came through the switch board of Universal Exports. Local police. They were looking for you. Q had your card on him and he had given your name as emergency contact person in Trauma.”

James felt his pulse increase as various scenarios played out in his head. Over dose, hit and run . . . rape.

“Tanner remembered him from the poker game fortunately. You will need to do some explaining to Tanner but . . . Q was beaten up pretty bad. Boyfriend.”

James concern and fear, turned to rage. He never had met Donny but he was positive he would be the last sight Donny had on this side of life.

“Do you know why?” James asked.

“Q’s been out of it for most of a week. He finally woke up enough to speak to me yesterday. Something about meeting up with you when the boyfriend was in jail.” Alec glanced over at his friend. “The boyfriend was jealous of you.”

“Q and I are only . . . acquaintances at best. He’s been to my flat three times.”

“And slept there each time?”

James looked out the window instead of answering the question.

“The boyfriend was in jail and Q was scared. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“So you, being the generous type, let a rent boy sleep in your spare room.”

“He’s not a rent boy.” James snapped back.

“James, you gave your card out to an underage homeless boy. You’ve let him stay with you at your flat. Do know what is going through M’s and Tanner’s mind right about now. You will be hauled into psych and question about your sexual proclivities. They think you’re a pedophile right now.”

“He’s a friend. I never touched him.”

Alec was quiet for a moment waiting for James to say something else. The man remained silent in the seat next to him.

“Q said the same thing. You’re some kind of hero to him, you know.” James sighed but remained quiet. “What are you going to do?”

“I want to see him.”

“Then?”

“I’ll finish the mission.”               

~Q~

Hospitals always had that smell to them. The stench of illness and disinfectant. Sour and bitter. James and Alec walked up the hall way to the private rooms. A guard was standing outside Q’s door.

“Because of the questions raised when he listed you as contact person, he has been separated from the other patients.” Alec explained. He nodded at the guard and the man nodded back.

“How many times have you been here?” James asked.

“Every day since he was admitted. He woke up yesterday.” Alec pushed the door in and James followed him.

Q was sitting up in bed looking down a tray full of food. There were scrambled eggs and toast, a sliced tomato and a cup of porridge. Q held a cup of tea in his hands but stared down at the food like it was poison.

He looked up when the two men stepped into the room and smiled at Alec. When he recognized James he tried to stand up, forgetting about the tray in front of him and knocking the whole mess around.

“James!” Q shouted.

Alec rushed forward and steadied the table and pulled it back before it landed in the bed with Q.

“Whoa there kid, take it easy. You know the doctors said you need to stay in bed for two more days.”

“Like you ever listened to doctors.” Q said dipping his chin down and looking up through his lashes to tease Alec.

“I’m bigger than they are. You’re not.” Alec smiled back.

“When I hit my growth spurt you better watch out.” Q smiled at the blonde man, then turned to James. “I missed you. Are you back for long?”

“I leave in less than eight hours.” James could see the crushed look on Q’s face.

The young man looked down at his cup of tea as he tried to compose himself. James took a moment to look Q over. His left eye was swollen and black. His left ear was bandaged but James could see the dried blood on the left side of his pale neck. There were finger marks on the neck from where someone, _Donny,_ had wrapped their hands around the boy’s neck. Q’s right hand was bandaged and it looked like his right leg was cast. From the way Q was sitting, James was pretty sure there were some broken ribs too.

“Alec, would you give Q and me a moment alone.”

Q looked up at the man. James could see the fear and shame in the boy’s eyes. Alec nodded and stepped out of the room. The silence hung heavy between the two of them. James stepped forward and took the cup of tea away from Q and set it on the bedside table. Carefully, James took both of Q’s hands in his own.

“I’m glad you listed me as your contact person, but you should have warn me.” James said a gently as he could. He felt Q jump at his voice.

“I . . . you are the only person I thought would be able to help me.”

“Why did he do this to you?”

“When he got out of jail, someone told him I went to see you. . . I told him you were just a friend. That we weren’t anything . . . anything more. He got angry. He thought I was trying to find someone else. Someone besides him.” Q looked away. “He spent two days . . . beating me.” Q voice faded away. “He broke my leg the first day, so I wouldn’t run away from him.”

James’ mind rapidly descended to various version of James killing the bastard.

“Have you spoken to the police?”

“No. I haven’t seen anyone but Alec and the doctors.”

“Will you file a complaint?”

“I . . . James, he was just scared. He thought I was going to leave him.” Q whined to the man, squeezing James hands with his own.

“You are going to leave him.” James said as calmly as he could. “You are going to leave him and file a complaint and put that bastard in jail for a long time.”

“Then what? Where will I go?”

James paused for a moment. He was already in trouble with M. Every one already thought he was taking advantage of the boy.

“You will come to my flat until we can find you a better situation.”

Q blinked his eyes.

“But I thought . . . why?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Because I said so. I will be gone for a day or two. When you are released from here you will come home with me. I will let my boss know I won’t be a work for a few days. I’ve got some time off coming to me anyway. We will discuss your future. Make plans for you and find options.”

Q blinked again and dragged his teeth over his lower lip.

“I . . . I think . . . okay.”

~Q~

Bond returned from Russia two days later. Two days after that, Q was discharged from hospital. He rode out to Alec’s car in a wheelchair but when Alec pulled his car up to the front door of James’ building the blue eyed agent picked Q up bridal style and carried him in.

“You know I can walk on crutches.” Q said with a huff and James carried him into the lift.

“The doctors said no.”

James gracefully unlocked his door while his arms were full of a fifteen year old boy. He kicked open the door and stepped into his flat.

“Sofa, bathroom or bed?” He asked nonchalantly.

“Sofa.” Q said realizing the logistic of bathroom visits need to be worked out.

James gently set Q down on the couch and grabbed a throw pillow to wedge behind Q’s back. He lifted Q’s cast leg and set it down on the leather seat then spread a rug over his long thin legs.

The knock on the door announced Alec’s arrival. The tall Russian being the only person reception would allow upstairs without calling first. James opened the door and let his friend in.

“So, Thai or Indian tonight?” Alec asked as he stepped in.

“Thai, please.” Q said from the couch. James and Alec agreed.

Alec and James walked into the kitchen and James opened the drawer with his takeaway menus. He flipped through the pile till he found two separate menus. He held them up and Alec pointed to one.

James opened the menu and looked through the selection.

“So how long is he going to stay here this time?”

James looked at his friend. “What do you mean?”

“The first time, one night. The second time, one night. The third time, he said for three days. Now?”

James looked back at the menu. “Until he has somewhere else to go.”

“He’s homeless, James. He has nowhere else to go.”

“He and Donny had a flat together. He can get another one.”

“You are kidding yourself. You need to get him into some sort of situation for him. A situation you are not involved in.”

James ignored his friend and pulled out his mobile. He called the restaurant and made an order. He stepped back out and looked at the young man sitting on the couch.

“Dinner will be here in an hour. I got something for you.” James went over of opened his briefcase. He pulled out a new laptop computer. He handed to the young man. Q looked like a child at Christmas. “That boyfriend of yours hocked everything before the cops showed up. He gone to the wind. They can’t find him.”

Q seemed to pale as James spoke. He wrapped his arms around the laptop and held in close to his chest.

“We waited too long to file a report.” James continued. “Donny was able to get away. But I won’t let him get back to you. You are safe here.”

“How long can I stay here?” Q asked looking up at the agent. James looked over at Alec who was wanted an answer to the exact same question.

“As long as you need.” James said.

He turned and went to his bed room. He slammed the door then went and sat down on his bed. This was insane. What the hell was he thinking?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the wonderful comments. 106 days till Spectre.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q and James come to an understanding.

Four weeks later the cast came off. Q sat pensively on the front seat of James’ car as the man drove back through the traffic to the flat. He and Q had made an agreement. As soon as Q had been cleared by the doctors, the boy had to be placed somewhere else. He could not stay with James any longer.

The blonde was just as tense as the young man. He had come to enjoy coming home to someone else in his flat. He enjoyed the conversations over takeaway and the few the attempts they made to actually cook their own food. Q was a great conversationalist despite his youth. He was knowledgeable on various subjects and loved to read. They would play cards with Alec or just the two would watch TV at night. Q would ask questions about the various places James had traveled. The older man kept referring to his work as import/export. Q never questioned it.

The idea that Q would soon be gone and the flat would be empty when Bond returned from missions was not pleasing. He had grown accustom to the young man’s silly laughter and his sharp public school diction. He found himself more relaxed in his own home when Q was there and the thought of his departure made the flat seem cold and empty.

Q sat quietly looking out the window as the city swept by. He was thinking and James wondered about what.

“Have you made any decisions yet?” James broke the silence.

“Not really. Not a lot of opportunities out there for homeless fifteen year olds. If I was eighteen, I would have choices.”

James remained silent. Q was correct. It was a shame really. The young man was more than intelligent enough and mature enough to be on his own, but still at fifteen he had few suitable situations.

“You told me once I should go back to school.” Q said still looking at the window.

“Yes, I did. How far did you get before you dropped out?”

“My mother had me reading the Encyclopedia Britannica by the time I was five. Admittedly, many of the words were lost on me at that age. I had gotten through the letter ‘R’ before she died. I read the rest on line over the years. I spent a lot of time reading in those libraries, besides hacking you know. I probable could pass my A levels without breaking a sweat.” Q turned and looked at Bond. “In fact, I did.”

James glanced over at Q. “You did what, pass the A levels? When?”

“I took them a few weeks ago while you were at work. I passed.”

“But you’re not even enrolled anywhere?”

“I enrolled at UCL today. I’ll find out soon if they will take me.”

“Do they know you are fifteen?” James asked as he swerved to miss a taxi.

“I filled out the registration stating I was eighteen and living with my cousin. I gave them your address.” Q said softly.

“Your cousin!? Q, I thought we agreed you need to find a more suitable . . .”

“I want to make another agreement. You want me to go to school. I want to stay with you. I will go to school and live with you.”

“Q . . .” James pulled the car to a stop in parking garage of his building.

“James, it is the perfect solution. You want me in school. I’ll be there. I’ll get the education you think I need. You will let me keep living in your flat and when you go out on trips for Universal, I’ll take care of the flat. It is perfect solution.”

“No, it is not perfect.” James’ mind was screaming at him to shut up. “I can’t have an underage boy living with me. I’m not your family.”

“The records says you are.”

“What records?” James glared at the young man.

“While I was recuperating, I got bored. I hacked into various data bases and erased my record and created a new one. I changed my age and history and well everything. That’s how I was able to sign up for Uni. Please, you must see it is perfect. I promise I’ll do good, just let . . . let me stay.”

James looked at the young man. He wanted Q to stay. He didn’t want the boy to leave. M was going to have his head on a platter.

“Yes, as long as you maintain a top grade average.”

Q smiled brighter than James had ever seen before. The young man leapt across the gear shift and hugged James. He was shouting and thanking James; hugging the man’s neck tight. Then suddenly, Q kissed James. A quick wet kiss right on his mouth.

Q pulled back quickly and looked stunned at what he had just done. He pulled his arms back and ducked his head down.

“Sorry . . . I was just . . . thank you for letting me stay. You won’t regret it.”

James wondered if he would.

~Q~

The two settled into a relaxed rhythm. James went on missions, telling Q they were scouting trips for Universal Exports. Q never asked questions even when James came home bruised and damaged. Alec came over more often and when Bond was out of town, Alec could be found spending nights sleeping on the couch in the flat. Q just rolled his eyes.

It was comforting for James to arrive home after a mission to find his flat smelling of tea and cinnamon toast. His kitchen table would be buried under a mound of computer and engineering books. Q sitting in the chair huddled over the books. Q was good to his word, and maintained the highest GPA in his classes. Alec teased him that he should be teaching the courses instead of his professors.

When a letter arrived from Imperial College, offering a full scholarship, James wrapped Q in hug and spun him around the flat. They opened champagne bottles that night and together got very drunk. When James woke in the morning to find the young man sleeping on top him on the sofa, he didn’t say anything. He just let his fingers card slowly through Q’s dark curls. The boy was now seventeen. He was a man.

James laughed when he took Q to the bathroom to teach him how to shave the first time. After getting shaving cream stuck up his nose, Q proclaimed he was going to grow a beard instead. By his eighteenth birthday, Q was only an inch shorter than James. But now the jade green eyes were hidden behind hipster glasses. Q’s face had narrowed and his voice had deepened, but James could still see the young boy he had rescued that night from the three thugs.

Once a month, other Double ‘O’s would join James, Q and Alec in a night of poker. Q was becoming as good as Bond at reading people and better at remembering cards. Routinely, it came down to a battle between teacher and student. James own pride in Q beginning to outweigh his competitive spirit to win.

~Q~

It had been a mission to South Africa to track down an illegal gun dealer. The man was supplying weapons to militant factions in the area and James was sent in to find and eliminate the man. It turned brutal before James was able to return to London. It was late when he stumbled into the flat.

Q was sitting at the kitchen table looking over a design he had for a new computer program. He was dressed in his ‘Dr. Who’ sleep pants and an old grey t-shirt of James. His hair was wild and mussed having showered earlier in the evening and not combed it yet. He heard the door open and James drop his rucksack by the door. The door slammed shut just as Q stepped out of the kitchen.

“James?! What happened!?” Q rushed across the room and quickly grabbed the man before he fell over.

James’s left eye was blackened and dried blood clung to his split lip. He had dried blood in his hair and his hands looked swollen from punches he had given someone. He groaned as he tried to remove his windcheater. Q carefully took the edges of the coat from James’ fingers and gently removed it.

“Did you fly back from Johannesburg like this?”

“Those travel advisories about muggings in Soweto are correct. You should listen to them.” James tried to laugh but it hurt too much.

“You’re kidding me. You were mugged? Did you tell the police?”

“They were very supportive. I don’t think I’ll get my wallet back.”

Q helped the injured man to a chair to sit down. James groaned as he sat.

“Let me get some water to clean you up.”

“No just help me to the bedroom and I’ll be fine.” James leaned back closing his eyes.

“Like hell, you’ll be find. Why didn’t you stop at a Trauma Room before you came home?” Q rushed to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of water and towel.

“I did. Don’t worry.” James couldn’t tell the man he had been to Medical at MI6. He checked himself out before the doctors strapped him down to a bed.

Q gently wiped the dried blood from James’ lip; kneeling in front of the man while he did so. James looked down at the big green eyes looking up at him in concern and care. Q’s eyebrows were knitted together and his very dark lips were pulled into a pout. James felt a warmth move through him as he looked down at the man before him.

“You shouldn’t do that.” James whispered. He pulled his eyes away. “Just get me to my bed.”

James tried to rise, but Q was blocking his escape.

“James, just let me . . . oh, you are infuriating.” Q rose gracefully in front of James. The blonde suddenly was looking at Q’s flimsy sleep pants instead of his pale face. The anatomy evident. James blinked then swallowed hard. He closed his eyes and waited for Q to move away from him.

Q reached under James’ arm and helped lift him up. Together the two men staggered down the hall and James waved that he wanted to stop in the bathroom. Q led him in then stopped and looked concern for a moment.

“Do you need help with . . . ah . . .?”

“No.” James said emphatically. The last thing he wanted was to be partial or totally naked in front of Q. He opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle. He used his thumb and popped the lid before slamming two tablets into his mouth.

“James, no! You could have a concussion!” Q watched as James dry swallowed the hydrocodone.

“It’s fine. I do it all the time.”

“You idiot!” Q grabbed James’ arm and took the bottle of pills away. He then pulled the taller man out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

Q wasn’t gentle when he pushed James down on the bed.

“Damn it James. Look at me.” James didn’t want to, but Q grabbed his chin and held the man’s face where Q could look carefully into his eyes. “Let me get undressed and you will lay down. I’ll wake you every hour to make sure you’re still alive.”

Q knelt again and started untying James shoes. The older man just sat there watching Q work. After the last three years he never noticed how beautiful Q looked. His dark wild hair curling around his pale angular face. His large jade green eyes over the ridiculous deep red lips. The nose that turned up slightly at the end. Q was quite good looking in an elfin way.

James shook his head at the thought. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking of the young man in that way. He decided he was in worse shape than he thought he was when he left Medical. He pulled his shirt up over his head, hissing as he did so. Q looked up and saw the dark bruises over James’ ribs and the cut across his stomach.

“James? Do I need to stitch you up?” Q asked shaken by what he saw.

“Steri-strips in the bathroom, under the sink. There is some antibiotic ointment in there too.”

James collapsed backwards on the bed. His head ached and his body felt heavy and sluggish.

“James, should I call Alec?” Q was beginning to worry this was more than he could handle.

“No, he’s in Brazil. I’ll be find. Just get . . .” James voice faded off.

Q quickly check the man’s breathing and his pulse.

“James, when are you going to tell me the truth?”

Scared to do anything else, Q got the bandages and ointment. He cleaned James’ wounds and dressed them. He then finished undressing James and maneuvering him into bed proper.

Q went and retrieved his laptop and his mobile phone. He set the alarm app on the phone for every hour, then he sat down on the bed next to James. He propped several pillows behind his back resting the laptop on his folded legs and went to work on the new program.

Every hour during the night, Q gently nudged James until the man spoke to him. He watched carefully over the blonde, cursing the whole time about James’ arrogance. Around four in the morning the battery on his laptop finally gave out. He closed the thing and let it slip to the floor. James had curled up on his side next to the young man. Q watched as James twitched and grunted through his various dreams. The young man’s fingers gently combing through the blonde’s hair whenever James seemed distressed.

The sun was coming through the sheer curtains when James woke. His body ached but he felt warm and relieved he knew he was home. He tried to figure out why his pillows felt strange till he realized it was someone’s thigh. He quickly tried to remember the night before and recall whom he had chosen to take to bed. His mind drew a blank.

The thigh was thin and muscular. Not like a female’s. The scent of the person was familiar and comforting.

“James, if you are finally awake, I really need to go to the loo.”

The blonde heard the familiar diction and slight nasal tone. He was lying in bed with Q. ‘ _HE WAS LYING IN BED WITH Q!’_ His mind raced to try and remember what had happened the night before. Had he over stepped his bounds and taken the young man to bed with him. Had he seduced his . . . what . . . ward . . . friend.

James’ stomach twisted as he looked up into Q’s face. Relieved to see the young man still dressed.

“Are you okay?” James asked.

Q smiled at him and sighed. “You’re the one who got the shite kicked out him. Of course I’m fine. But if you don’t let me get up . . .”

James looked down to see he had wrapped himself around Q’s lower body. He had used the man’s lap as a pillow.

James groaned as he rolled away from the young man.

“On your way back, there is a bottle of pain killers on the shelf in there. White bottle with a red label.”

“Not anymore. You tried to kill yourself with them last night. I will keep control of them until you start acting responsible again.”

James looked up at the young man as he unfolded himself from the bed. “Responsible?” James lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, as responsible as you can get.”

Several minutes later, Q returned with a tray. There was a cup of coffee on it and some toast. A glass of orange juice and one hydrocodone. James eyed the tray then collapsed back on to the bed, closing his eyes.

“Are you planning on mothering me until I throw you out?”

“You’re not going to throw me out. You need me.”

James didn’t move. Q was correct. He would never throw the boy out. He did, in fact, need him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are candy. I like candy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q's birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was finishing up the chapter dealing with Skyfall and what happens afterwards when I went back and read over what I had already written and realized I was moving the story along too quickly. So I have decided to add a little more angst and fluff in. 
> 
> As a result, this chapter was written last night and roughly proof read. If there are any mistakes, (and there surely are) please let me know and I'll correct them. I may add more extra chapters before I return to the original chapters or I may just plunge on forward. I haven't decide yet.

James was sitting in the locker room of MI6, changing into his clothes when his mobile rang. He picked it up and saw the call was from Q. He smiled and answered the call.

“Hello, birthday boy. Almost done at the office. Are you ready for dinner already?” James smiled into the phone.

It was Q’s birthday and since the young man had moved in, James had always taken him out to one of the many five star restaurants in London. Tonight he had planned on Fera with their new chef.

“Hello, James. Ah . . . do you mind if we change plans for tonight?” Q sounded stressed.

“Of course, it’s your night. What do you want to do?” James felt a small prick of disappointment.

“Friends from Imperial want to take me out for drinks and dancing.”

“Oh, sure. Okay. We’ll just do something tomorrow night.” There was no way he would get reservation back at the restaurant.

“No, I want you to come too. I want you to meet them.” Q quickly said.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to include me.”

“Yes,” Q sounded excited.

“Where?”

“I’ll wait for you at the flat and we can go together.” James could hear the relief and happiness in Q’s voice.

James smiled hearing Q’s voice. “I’ll be home early. I’m looking forward to it.”

James disconnected the mobile and looked down at the screen. He should feel relieved that Q was making friends his own age. That the young man was taking on a normal life away from James chaotic one and the life he had known on the streets. James told himself he should be happy. For Q’s sake, he would try.

James had changed out of his suit and into a pair of black jeans and a royal blue turtle neck. Q admired the tight jeans as James walked in front of him getting onto the lift.

The music at the club was loud and not to James’ taste. Q introduced the two people to James at the door, Marc and Lana. The young man was average build and height. He had dirty blonde hair that was thin and scraggly. The woman was thin and petite with long blonde hair and pale grey eyes. They all entered the club and found a table back from the edge of the dance floor.

“So you’re Quin’s cousin, James.” Marc said looking James up and down.

James eyes glanced quickly at Q then back to the young man. James held his hand out and shook Marc’s hand hard.

“Yes, and you are . . .”

“Marc is studying political science.” Q interrupted.

“Political science? How did you ever meet Q in the engineering department?” James asked raising an eyebrow.

“Marc’s my roommate.” Lana explained. “I’m interning in Quin’s department. Quin is my mentor. Marc’s been hanging around in the department between lectures.”

James nodded. He realized he really needed to spend more time learning about Q’s education. He didn’t know the young man was mentoring to anyone.

“Quin is the best.” She leaned over and kissed the young man’s cheek. “Happy birthday, love.” She smiled at Q. He nodded his head and smiled back. James noticed the slight blush to the young man’s cheeks.

Bond’s face broke into a broad smile. So that was what this was. Introduce the new girlfriend to his . . . his what? Guardian. Friend.

“Well, let me buy the first round. What is everyone drinking?”

“I think beers around, please.” Q said. “I’ll come and help you.”

“No, Quin, I’ll help your cousin.” Lana said winking at James. So not new girlfriend, James corrected his assessment.

The two of them went to the bar and ordered the drinks. When they returned to the table, three other people had joined Q and Marc. Two women, Norma and Grace, and another man, Arthur. Grace presented Q with a cupcake with a small candle on top. The small group laughed and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to the embarrassed young man.

James smiled and joined into the singing. Q looked up at James and smiled back. The older man admitted to himself this would be a better birthday for the young man than what he planned. When Q blew out the candle. Everyone cheered and Lana dragged both James and Q out to the dance floor. Norma and Grace joined them and Marc.

The group danced together, not actually dancing with individual partners. Q stood in the center and the others moved around him. James moved slowly watching as Q swayed his hips with the music. The young man’s eyes were closed and his hands raised above his head elongating his thin frame. In the stropping lights, Q looked gorgeous. Moving and shifting with rhythm. As the music changed to a faster beat, James took a step back.

“Not my song. I’ll sit this one out.” He shouted over the music. Q’s eye flew open and he leaned forward and grabbed James around the neck. He pulled the man closer and spoke softly in his ear.

“Thank you, James. I know this isn’t what you had wanted for tonight, but thank you for coming here with us.”

James leaned back where he could look into Q’s eyes. The two men smiled at each other, then James stepped away and went back to the table. As he sat down he noticed Lana had joined him.

She sat down in the chair beside James and picked up one of the beers. She sipped it slowly, occasionally looking over the rim of the glass at James. Bond was watching the dancing, specifically watching Q dance.

“You don’t look similar.” Lana said breaking the ice.

“Pardon?” James looked over at the woman.

“You and Quin don’t look like you are related.”

James had a difficult time remembering Q’s false ID. Quinton was the name he chosen.

“Distant cousins.” James said watching the woman as she shifted her chair closer to speak to him over the music.

“He doesn’t talk about you much. I think he said you work for an export company. Is that interesting?”

He smiled. Definitely, not a girlfriend. Just a friend. Her attempts at seduction with James were pitiful. “Yes. Very.” He turned back to watch the dancing.

“Do you travel a lot?”

“Of course.”

“Like where?”

“Everywhere.”

The spot lights shifted from red and orange to soft blues. The music changed again to a slow song. Couples started forming up and swaying slowly to the new song. Bond watched as Marc pulled Q close, wrapping his arms around the brunette’s waist. Q looked up quickly at James, then back at Marc as he slipped his arms around the blonde’s shoulders.

James’ heart started beating quicker as the realization slipped through him. Q’s interests were in Marc and not Lana. Q was gay.

“Don’t they make a cute couple?” Lana said leaning closer to James. “Marc talks about him all the time.”

James shifted in his seat and took another sip of his beer as he watched the two men dance.

“Have they been dating long?” James asked wondering why he didn’t know anything about this.

“No, they’re not dating. I mean Marc would love it if they were, but . . .”

“But Quin has said no.”

“Marc was hoping tonight he could change Quin’s mind.” Lana rubbed her shoulder next to James’.

James ignored the woman and watched the two sway back and forth with the music. Q’s hips mirrored the hips of the blonde. The light had softened the features of the dancers and Q seemed to be dancing with his eyes closed. James watched as Marc brought his hand up and cup Q’s face and pull it closer. James watched as Marc kissed Q. Softly at first, then more assertive. Deeper and possessive.

“Hurray! Finally. Aren’t they gorgeous together!?” Lana squealed.

Q’s eyes opened and he looked up over Marc’s shoulder at James sitting at the table. James’ face as still and unreadable. Q pulled back from the kiss and looked into Marc’s face. The blonde leaned forward for another kiss, but Q shook his head. He looked over at the tables again and saw James was gone.

Lana followed James towards the door.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got some hang up on Quin being gay?” She accused.

“No, I’m fine with it. I’ve known he was gay for several years now.” James had always thought Donny had forced himself on Q and the young boy went along with it for protection. It never occurred to James, that Q would prefer men over women. “It’s Quin’s night and he doesn’t need his older cousin around. I just came for one drink anyway. Tell him I see him tomorrow.” James leaned forward and gently kissed her cheek.

Lana practically jumped, rocking up on to her toes. “We don’t have to call it an earlier night.”

“Sorry, love, I’ve got to get up earlier for work.” He lied.

James stepped out on the pavement in front of the club. The night was turning cold and he wrapped his arms around his body for warmth. He walked down the street till he saw a cab. He waved the taxi over and climbed into the back seat.

“Where to, gov?”

James sat for a moment, then gave him the address in Farringdon. It was nine-thirty at night when he was banging his fist on Alec’s door. A bury eyed Russian opened the door. James immediately noticed how the man was standing at an angle to him. His right hand hidden behind the man.

“Put the bloody gun away, it just me.”

“What’s wrong?” Alec asked in a slurred voice. “I just got back from Hong Kong. Jet lagged. Did World War III start?”

“No,” James pushed his way in and went the drinks cupboard. He grabbed a bottle of scotch and poured himself a drink.

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be out celebrating Q’s birthday?” Alec asked as he slammed the door and went to the freezer to pull out his bottle of vodka.

“He’s out with friends, dancing.” James collapsed on the couch.

“Good for him. Glad to hear he’s making friends other than trained killers.” Alec joined James on the couch.

“He has a boyfriend.”

“Really?” Alec sounded surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Snogging on the dance floor.”

Alec laughed and took a swig of vodka. “That is excellent. I’m glad he’s gotten over his hero worship of you.”

“What?” James asked looking at his friend, confused.

“You must have noticed the way he looks at you. All the Double ‘O’s who have been over for poker night have seen it. He worships the ground you walk on. He would jump you in a second if you’d let him.”

“Q is just . . . my flat mate. He doesn’t think of me any other way.”

“Flat mate? Really, James? He doesn’t pay a penny and you make more money than the prime minister. He’s not your flat mate.”

“Alec, he’s a kid.”

“Not according to the calendar. But it doesn’t matter now anyway. He’s found himself someone else. 003 will be happy.”

“Why would Carmine be happy?”

“She was getting unhappy with the way things have been going between you two. She planning on adopting him if anything ever happens to you. You’re not the only one who’s been watching out for the kid. Carmine, 004, and 008 have been keeping tabs on him. We all think of him as our own personal boffin. The kid none of us could ever have. Any given day he is being followed by at least one operative of MI6.”

“I didn’t know?” James looked stunned. “He’s never said anything.”

“You think we don’t know how to observe a mark unnoticed. Why do you think 008 took a flat in this building last time you were away for over a month? He was up here everyday borrowing or returning something to Q, just to check on him.”

“I thought he got thrown out of another flat for grilling goat inside.” James smiled.

“You’re an idiot. But good for Q to find a boyfriend. Will we approve?”

James looked down at his drink. “He’s young like Q. Blonde, average, forgettable. Political science geek. . . I mean really what could they possibly have in common. Q is intelligent and naïve, he is too unique for some politician ‘want a be’, who probably has the morals of used car sales man. I don’t . . . I don’t like him.”

“Oh, shite.” Alec leaned back on the couch and looked James in the face. “How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you be besotted with the man?”

James’ head shot up and twisted to look at Alec angrily. “I’m not besotted with the boy!”

“He’s not a boy, James. He is a young man and you know it. He is grown and able to make decisions for himself.”

“He will always be a boy to me.”

“No he won’t. He knows his own mind. If he finds out you have nonpaternal feelings for him, he might give up the little loss puppy routine and jump you.”

James turned and looked at his best friend.

“Alec, am I a bad person?”

“James, he had eyes to die for.” Alec said softly. “Besides, we’ve been taking bets on how soon you two would finally give in. Although, you’re going to want to avoid Carmine for a few days afterwards. She will gut you.”

James drank the rest of the scotch. “Well, don’t collect on any bets yet. Q’s found himself someone more appropriate than me. And I’m . . . I’m glad for him. He needs to be around people his own age. People he shares common interests with.”

“Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?”

James walked out the flat and slammed the door. He spent the next few hours walking around the city. He tried to decide what his true feelings were. He had spent his life using his animal instincts to guide him. He killed out of necessity and he slept with people out of convenience. Only occasionally had encounters been more than a means to an end. He only allowed emotions to enter into the act once, Vesper, and that had ended badly.

The idea of being attached to another soul was jarring to James. He considered himself a loner. A person without connection to anyone or anything. Somewhere during the last five years that had changed. Q had changed from a boy into a man. And the man was now a desirable creature. The realization made James feel older. What could someone as young and vibrant as Q was find in someone so used up as James was? It wasn’t fair. Not to Q. All the better reason for Q to find a boyfriend elsewhere. James was relived now to think Q had found someone else and wouldn’t be expecting anything more from James.

The sun was just peaking over the horizon when James stepped off the lift and went to his flat door. He opened the door and stepped into the living room to see Q sitting on the sofa waiting for him.

“Good morning. What are you doing up so early?” James said trying to sound indifferent.

“I was worried . . . that you were called away again.” Q said finally looking at the man.

“No, I was with Alec.”

“Oh . . . I missed you. We always spend my birthday together.”

“I didn’t want to intrude on you and your friends.” James said as he went to the kitchen. He started fumbling with the coffee maker trying to avoid looking at Q.

“You saw Marc kiss me.” Q said from the door. It was more a statement than a question.

“Ah, yes. Have you two been dating long?”

“We’re not dating and we won’t be.” Q said as he stepped closer to James.

The blonde pulled all of his training together to remain calm. “I’m sorry to hear that. He seemed like a nice guy. Not your type?” Bond suddenly realized he never knew what Donny looked like.

“No, I prefer blondes but no he’s not my type.” Q waited a moment before he spoke again. “Are you mad at me?”

James turned to look at the young man. “What would make you think that?”

“You left so quickly last night. You didn’t say goodbye or anything. Did I do something to make you angry?”

James sighed and slumped his shoulders. “No, Q. You couldn’t make me angry at you. I just felt . . . out of place last night. You did nothing wrong.”

Q stepped closer. “Would you like to do something together today?”

James smiled and set the carafe for the coffee maker down.

“How about we go out for breakfast. Anywhere you would like to go.”

Q relaxed and smiled at James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the wonderful comments and all the kudos. I'm glad you are enjoying this story line.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Q take a trip together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hatake_Tusugki asked if Q was a grad student or what so I decide to add another filler chapter of Q just before he gets his PhD. Valentin unfortunately comes and ruins their growing relationship.

James was returning from South America. He had been away for a month on a drug cartel mission. He arrived back in London with only minor cuts and scrapes and one very uncomfortable burn to left arm. It was good to be back as spring was in full bloom in the city. The sun was warming the grey stones and London seemed to be emerging from a winter’s sleep.

He opened the door of his flat to find Q asleep on the couch. His lap top open and powered down on the coffee table. There were multiple books scattered around the room, mostly on the floor, and at least half a dozen empty or partially empty tea mugs sitting on the coffee table.

James took off his coat and hung it up. He watched Q fondly as he toed off his shoes. The young man was dead to the world. He was curled up on his side, his head resting on a folded up blanket. For a brief moment, James remembered the young boy. The wild untamed hair, the pale thin face. James wondered when the man ate last.

Careful to move mugs and computer out of the way, James sat down on the coffee table and reached over to comb the fringe out of Q’s eyes. James was always amazed at how soft Q’s hair was whenever he indulged himself and touched it. He only did it when Q was asleep. He thought Q wouldn't appreciate his hair being combed through by the man’s fingers. James was unable to admit to himself let alone Q, how he actually felt about the younger man.

Q hummed and shifted. James moved his hand down to Q’s shoulder and gently squeezed.

“Good morning, Q.”

The young man’s eyes fluttered then closed again. A silly grin came to his face as he rolled into James’ contact.

“Morn’in James,” the words came out slurred.

“What are you doing out here instead of your bed?”

“Finish’in up da report.” Q swung his long legs off the sofa, letting the momentum sit him up. He still had his eyes closed as James slowly dragged his hand down Q’s shoulder and forearm. Just before he removed it, Q’s own hand grabbed his and held it tight. “I finished.”

“You finished what?”

“My thesis. It’s done. I gave it to my sponsor last night.” Q opened his eyes and focused on James’ face.

“It’s done?”

“Yes, it goes before committee on Monday and then peer review.”

“What happens if they don’t accept it?”

Q smiled his silly smile again. “Not a chance. Besides I’ve had three separate bids on the program from cybersecurity companies. Even if I don’t get my PhD, I will make a lot of money off it.”

James couldn’t restrain himself. He quickly pulled Q forward and into his lap. James wrapped his arms around the man and hugged him tight.

“Congratulations. I’m so proud of you!”

Q’s arms slipped around James’ shoulders and the young man buried his face into James’ neck.

“This is wonderful! Dr. Q. It sounds like some mad scientist. Or maybe you should be traveling around in a blue box?” James kept hugging the young man. Q just hummed into his neck. “We need to celebrate! Have you ever seen Paris?”

Q leaned back and looked up. He wasn’t wearing his glasses so his jade green eyes were big and unfocused.

“Paris?”

“Yes, let me take you to Paris for the weekend. Let me show you the city and eat till we’re in agony.”

Q smiled, blinking his long eyelashes.

“Paris? Really?”

“Yes.”

Then Q bowed his head.

“I don’t have a passport.”

James shifted for a moment as Q slid off his lap. James could see the sadness in the young man’s eyes. He couldn’t let that happen, not today of all days.

“Don’t worry about a passport. I’ll deal with that. Just go pack for weekend. Be sure to pack that suit I bought you.” James smiled at Q as he seem to light up again listening to James.

As soon as Q stood and gave room to James, the man removed the mobile in his pocket and called Margo in TSS. He had a rush job for her to do with the promise of baked goods from her favorite Paris bakery as payment.

~Q~

Q was still looking down at his passport when they were checking into the Hotel du Louvre. The opulent old hotel was near the famous museum. The marble lobby with its highly polished wood was lost on Q as he kept studying the passport. They entered the ancient lift and were carried to the top floor and the suite James had reserved for them.

As soon as the bell boy left them and the door was closed, Q spoke.

“It’s fake, isn’t it?”

James raised an eyebrow looking at the man.

“Does it matter? We wanted to travel and you needed a passport.”

“It says Quain Thibodaux.”

“Well, that’s your name?”

“Yes, but . . . it’s not the name I’ve been using.” James gave himself a mental slap. He really needed to ask Q what his false ID was. He knew the first name was Quinten, but he never asked about the last name.

Q finally looked around at the room they were standing in. The elegant burnished gold furniture and the warm blue grey walls. Heavy Damask drapes lined the tall windows that looked out over the city. It was a sitting room with doors leading off of it on either side.

“James? Did you do this for me?”

“Yes, Q. I’m proud of you. Yes, you deserve this.” The older man smiled at Q.

Q rushed forward and hugged James again. The older man easily wrapping his arms around Q’s waist as the young man buried his face into James’ neck. After a minute, it became awkward because neither man seemed to be letting go. Instead, the young man started to lean heavier into James’ body. James wanted Q to stay there in his arms but he thought he was the one holding Q to him. He cleared his throat.

“Your room is over there.” James dipped his head to one of the doors leading away. Q pulled back and looked between the door and James.

“Oh, my room?”

“Yes, I’ll sleep in the other bedroom.”

Q dropped his arms and backed away from James. The blonde instantly missing the warmth of Q’s body.

“Oh course. . . Yes . . . So what do you want to do first?”

 _‘Kiss you.’_ James’ traitorous mind said to him. James stepped back further and went to the window.

“There’s a nice café off the Rue de Colonel Driant. I know the owners. How about a lovely lunch? Then afterwards we can walk through the city.”

Q didn’t want to speak. He just nodded and slipped his fake passport into the pocket of his trousers.

~Q~

The two men spent the day investigating the city. James enjoyed showing Q the places tourist didn’t go to. The back streets and the small shops. The people and the colors. Q was wide eyed and enthralled. James was surprised how quickly Q picked up certain phrases and French words.

“If we stay for a month, you would be speaking fluently.” James smiled as they walked along La Seine.

“What I would give to spend a month here?” Q said whimsically.

James smiled. “What would you give?”

“My heart.” Q looked back at the man and smiled. A slight blush colored the young man’s face.

James looked at Q for a moment then quickly looked down the street. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his wool coat and he tried to think of some other subject to talk about.

“You know I never knew what your preference was.” Q started a conversation.

“Preference for what?”

“Partners?” Q said trying to look anywhere but at James.

The older man stumbled slightly in his step but quickly caught himself and kept walking.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You’ve never brought anyone back to the flat after a date. I know you go on dates, I just don’t know with who.”

“I told you at the beginning I don’t bring people back to the flat.” James said wondering where this conversation was going.

“That’s not true. You brought me.”

“You weren’t a date. You were a . . . salvage.”

“Thanks.” Q groaned as they kept walking. The young man paused trying to regain his courage. He looked out over the river to the far bank. James stepped up beside him. “So, which do you prefer? Men or women?”

“Well, if you must know . . . both.” James felt wrong footed.

“Oh . . .” Q seemed surprised.

“And you? I know about Donny and Marc. Have there been any women included in your history?”

“No, I mean I’ve been asked but I’m not . . . comfortable with women. I prefer . . .”

“You’re gay.” James said matter of fact.

“Yes.” Q ducked his head. “I guess it was kind of obvious.”

James looked over at the young man. The smile was only in James’ eyes but it relaxed Q. He sighed and smiled back.

“You said Marc wasn’t your type. Was Donny?”

“No, not really. He was just . . . Donny. I mean he was good to me to a point.”

The two men started walking again.

“Was he blonde, brunette, ginger?”

“Dark hair, like mine, and his eyes were like dark chocolate. I’ve never seen anyone with darker eyes. He was pale too. He was taller than me by at least six inches. Always had to have a hand touching me. It was kind of strange how possessive he was. But he was . . . considerate of me. Of my age. He didn’t push for a lot of . . . contact.”

James understood what Q was trying to say.

“You must have been frightened.”

“No, he made it seem alright. I knew it wasn’t but he just made me feel safe. Well, safe till I wasn’t.”

“I’m am sorry you went through that Q. I would do anything to change that so you don’t have those memories.”

“It’s okay James. It brought me to you. You gave me more than I could have ever hoped for. . . I owe . . . I owe you so much.”

“You don’t owe me a thing. It’s been good . . . nice to come home and have you there. I’ve enjoyed our time together.” They walked further down the street. “I guess now that you have finished graduate school, you’ll be moving on.”

Q looked up at the man.

“Moving on but not out. . . Unless you want me too.”

James stopped short and looked at the man. “No, never. I didn’t mean that.”

“I can get a job now and start paying for my share. Maybe I can make enough that you can quit your job and enjoy an early retirement.”

A sad smile came over James’ face.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Q. Retirement is not in my plans.” Q frowned as James spoke. “But that’s a conversation for another day. Let’s go back to the hotel so I can take you to one of my favorite restaurants.”

Q nodded and stepped next to James. He gave the older man a quick kiss on the cheek. James eyes opened wide as Q pulled back.

“I just wanted to tell you thank you for this, James. Thank you for bringing me to Paris. Thank you for everything. Everything you’ve done for me for the last six years. I’m . . . I’m who I am because of you. Thank you.” Q ducked his head and started to walk down the pavement.

James smiled softly and sped up to catch the young man.

~Q~

Le Dali was a unique restaurant with a cheeky attitude. The two men sat at a table towards the back of the restaurant. James sat in the gold gilt chair; his back to the mirrored wall with Q to the left of him. James would occasionally scan the room before he would return to talking with Q. The young man looked down at the plate in front of James. The older man had ordered poached salmon with a lime cream sauce.

“Would you like to try a bite?” James asked. Q raised an eyebrow then a slow smile covered his face.

He leaned forward as James lifted the fork with a small portion of the salmon in it. Q closed his dark lips over the tines of the fork and slowly pulled back. Letting the fork slip from between his lips. James eyes fixed on the fork as it pasted Q’s dark lips. The young man closed his eyes and chewed the tender food. He hummed softly and the smile returned.

“Delicious.” Q purred.

“Amongst other things.” James said smirking watching Q. The younger man opened his eyes and looked up into James’ face. Both men broke out laughing.

They were laughing and trying each other’s food when the waiter approached with a champagne bucket containing a chilled bottle.

“We didn’t order any champagne.” James told the man with a raised eyebrow.

“No, sir. It is a gift from an admirer.”

Q craned his head up and looked back and forth between the waiter and James. Q could see the sudden change in James’ expression. The blonde was easing back in his seat and nonchalantly unbuttoned his jacket. The waiter set the chiller wine on the table for James to read the label.

“Russian champagne?” He asked sarcastically.

“Only the very best for my good friend.” A thick accented voice boomed. A large burly man started walking towards the table.

“Valentin Dmitrovich Zukovsky.” James said in a flat deadpan voice.

“James, so good to see you. I have missed you. When will you be back in Moscow?” Valentin stepped closer and pulled a chair away from another table to sit with James and Q.

Q looked the man over. Zukovsky was a large man. As tall if not taller than James. His shoulders were wide as was the rest of him. His black hair was combed back with the occasional grey hair peeking through. His face was square and pudgy. His jowls hanging over his thick neck. A goatee covered his thick chin.

“I make it a point to not let you know when I return to Moscow, Valentin. I want to be able to come home again.” James pulled his hands down from the table and rested them in his lap.

Q sat up straighter and wondered if it would rude to dive under the table for protection.

“And who is this interesting creature?” Valentin winked at Q. The young man suddenly felt like a rabbit staring down a wolf.

“A friend of James’ who shall remain anonymous.” Q said maintaining control over his voice. James smiled.

“He is a civilian, Valentin. Why are you in Paris?”

The former KGB agent looked offended. “Can’t a business man have a vacation in the city of love?”

“Your idea of love comes with a twenty day warrantee.”

“James, I’m hurt.”

“Not yet, but keep going. My friend and I are here celebrating a personal achievement. Not business. I’m sure you’re here for opposite reasons.” James maintain eye contact with the Russian mobster.

“It is not my intentions to disrupt your little tryst with . . .” he waved his hand at Q. “What is your name, kitten?”

“Classified.” James said.

Valentin’s expression hardened quickly as he looked around the room. “James, you will need to speak to me soon. I have heard things. Things that your M will want to know about. Things I expect to get paid for.”

Q pushed his chair back from the table. “I should let you two talk, excuse me.”

He moved to stand, but James’ hand snapped out and grabbed Q’s wrist.

“It’s fine. Valentin was leaving. I will let her know you miss her. She is still quite unhappy about her last visit to the Bosporus.”

“That was not my fault. Cane deceived both of us.”

James’ eyes flashed over at Q then back at Valentin. The Russian followed James’ glance. He shifted back. Zukovsky smirked as Q sat back down.

“James, you have become sentimental.” He turned and looked at Q. “You must be a special little play thing.”

“Valentin, as always mistaken. Good bye. It was . . . informative once again.”

Zukovsky gave James a hard glare before he rose. He smirked again at Q before he left. James and Q sat silent as they watched the man walk away and out the front door of the restaurant.

Q twisted in his seat so he could look at James more closely.

“James?”

“No Q. You don’t need to know.”

“But he . . .”

“I said no.” James returned to his meal while Q looked down at his plate of food. He had lost his appetite.

~Q~

They had walked back into the suite when James slammed the door. Q jumped at the loud bang. He turned to see James glaring at the young man as he yanked at the knot of his tie.

“So you have questions?” James had been angry ever since Zukovsky had left them at Le Dali. James had tried to engage Q in conversation but the young man had been so shaken by the Russian he would only answer in monosyllables.

“James, are you . . . in trouble?” Q looked up at the man through his fringe.

Of all the things Q could have asked, that the last thing he was expecting to hear.

“I’m fine, Q. Valentin is dramatic but harmless.”

“He’s a criminal!” Q was shaking with anxiety.

“He’s a caviar exporter.”

“He had a gun in the inside breast pocket of his jacket.”

James’ eyes fixed on Q as he pulled the silk tie from around his neck. It made a swooshing sound as it was yanked away.

“What are you talking about?” James wanted to deflect the information.

“James, I saw it when he sat down. He unbuttoned his jacket and I noticed the way the fabric hung. There was a gun in his left breast pocket. I’m as sure of that as I am of the one presently under your left arm.”

“He has connection with . . . unsavory types.” James seemed surprised by Q’s observations.

“Like the Russian Mafia. James I’m not a child. I know what is going on.”

The blonde stopped moving and twisted to get a good look at Q. “Q, you are imagining things. And I will treat you like a child when you are acting like one.”

Q stepped back and blinked at James. He studied the blonde’s expression for a few seconds. James could tell exactly when Q made his mind up. He watched as the young shifted his stance forward.

“I will soon be able to support both of us. Please quit, James. Please let me take care of you.”

“What?!” Again surprised by the younger man’s train of thought.

“I will make enough for both of us. You don’t have to . . . be involved in export any more. Please.”

James tried and failed to not laugh. “Q, you really have things wrong.” James didn’t want to tell Q the truth, but he never thought he would be confused for being like Zukovsky.

Q didn’t take being laughed at well. He tipped his head back narrowing his eyes and jutting out his lower lip.

“FUCK YOU, JAMES!” Q turned and went to his bed, slamming the door closed.

This was not the celebration James wanted Q to have. He went and knocked on the young man’s door.

“Q, I’m sorry.”

“Go away!”

“Q?”

Silence. James moved away from the door and went to his bedroom. He would be sure to repay Valentin next time he saw him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a little rough. I'm not real happy with it, but I liked the interaction between James and Q by the river. The next chapter is just before the start of Skyfall.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q received bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of Skyfall. James comes home to find Q upset.

As soon as James stepped into the flat, he knew something was wrong. The windows were open in the living room but he could still smell cigarettes. The music was loud and Q was sitting alone on the balcony watching the sun set over the city.

“Q, I’m back.” James had been in Yemen to two weeks. He returned with a deep tan and a few more scars.

Q didn’t move from his seat. He didn’t acknowledge James’ arrival. James dropped his jacket over the back of one of the leather chairs as he toed off his shoes. Then he went to the open door.

“I’m famished, do you want to go out to eat or get something delivered?”

Q visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He didn’t look at James, but the man could see Q blink rapidly several times. The cigarette in his fingers had a long trail of ash clinging to it. Several other stubbed out butts could be seen in the glass ashtray next to Q’s chair. The young man started to say something, but stopped to clear his throat.

“I’m not hungry. Get whatever you like.” He unfolded himself from the chair and stood. It always seemed to shock James at how tall Q had grown. He kept expecting the young boy he met six years ago and not the man now standing on his balcony.

“Bad day in class?”

Q didn’t answer him. Instead he walked pass James and picked up the man’s jacket. Q shook it out. He dragged his hand down the fabric before he carried to the bedroom to set it in the pile for dry cleaning.

James had never seen Q like this before. James was becoming worried. The young man seemed distant and removed. Detached from himself.

“Q what happened?” The blonde asked when Q came back into the room. “Here, sit down next to me.”

James moved to the sofa and sat down. He waved over to the open space beside him. Q looked at it then came over and sat down next to him. Q just stared forward for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Is it something I did?” James asked.

Q turned and looked at him directly. James could tell Q had been crying. His jade green eyes were red rimmed and his face had a puffiness to it. James reached out with his palm and gently cupped the young man’s face. He dragged his thumb across the Q’s cheek bone and stared into the man’s eyes.

“Tell me what to do to make it better.”

Suddenly, Q moved forward. He threw his knee over James lap and straddled the man’s legs. Q cupped James’ face between his hands. His long fingers reaching back and pressing the edges on James’ ears. Surprised by the young man, James’ hand came up and grabbed at Q’s waist. James’ head tipped back to look up into the young man’s eyes.

“Kiss me . . .” Q whispered as he leaned forward and slid his lips across James’ mouth. The older man gasped and quickly tightened his grip on Q’s hips as he steady him. He felt the slide of Q’s wet tongue over his lips and the insistent poke of the tip.

Suddenly there was an internal battle in James. His body screamed for joy and want. A warmth filled his chest and his limbs began to tingle. His brain was shouting at him to stop.

James pulled back and tried to push Q back gently. “Q? . . . What are you . . . you don’t want this.”

“Yes, I do.” Q leaned forward again in an attempt to kiss James again.

James’ hand came up and laced into Q’s dark curls. He closed his fist with a hand full of hair and gently pulled back.

“No, you do not. Talk to me. What happened?”

Q paused staring intently at James, then he blinked rapidly as tears filled his eyes. James lessened his grip and let the young man fall forward and into his chest. His finger went to gently comb through the hair not seconds before he was pulling. He could feel Q shutter in his arms. He could feel Q shake. Fear slipped into James.

“Donny.” Q said into James’ shirt. James could feel the first tears soaking through his shirt.

“Donny? Did he try to hurt you again?” James’ muscles tensed as he was ready to leap to his feet and defend Q.

“Donny’s dead.”

Bond sat still. His mind trying to understand those two simple words. He wrapped his free arm tighter around Q’s waist and held the young man tight.

“He’s dead?” James whispered.

“He got knifed in the tunnels. Last night. Someone came and told me over at the school today. Someone from the old gang. Donny was trying to stop a fight and he got killed.”

James didn’t ask any more questions. He just let Q sit in his lap and cry. His hand slowly stroking down Q’s side as he listened to the young man weep. James wondered if anyone would cry for him like this when he was gone. Would anyone care when he was dead?

Donny had hurt Q. Both physically and emotionally, but Q stilled cared for the man. James wondered if it was some sort of distorted version of Stockholm Syndrome. He had heard of victims of abuse still loving their abusers but he never thought Q was like that. The young man never acted as if he still cared for the bastard. Q never made any attempt to return to the man after he left. James didn’t understand why Q was so upset.

It hurt James to think Q was still in love with the brute. That Q would always be a victim to the man. He held Q trying to calm his anger. He didn’t want to think of Q as a victim. He didn’t want Q to be harmed. The blonde could feel his insides twist at the thought. The thought of this beautiful, brilliant young man had been so damaged by his childhood on the streets. That no matter what James did, Q would always be stuck there alone and afraid.

James held the man tight. He let Q cry. He didn’t complain or try to give false platitudes. He knew Q wouldn't want to hear them. James waited for Q to quit. Within a few minutes, Q calmed. He moved to slide off James’ lap, but the blonde held Q tighter to him. Q looked up into the man’s face, then James let the young man go. Q slipped down onto the couch.

“I’m sorry.” Q said softly.

“Alright, let’s talk.”

“I haven’t had a lot of happiness in my life, James. My mother was good to me. She always encouraged me and she was kind. She had a soft smile and would wake me in the morning by gently rubbing my back and saying how lucky she was to have me for a son. It was a car accident. Hit and run. They never found the driver.” James wiped the new tear from Q’s cheek. “Donny was good to me too, for a while. He would just lay beside me and tell me all the things we would get to do once we were older and could get off the streets. He would rub my back and tell me his plans. We would move to the coast and live on the beach. We would swim every day. It was going to be perfect. Then he . . . well, he got scared. He did what he did . . .”

“He hurt you.” James said as his hand came up and rested on the nape of Q’s neck. His fingers playing in the dark curls.

“You’re the only one left James. You’re the only one left who has ever been nice to me. I’m going to lose you too, aren’t I. You’re going to go away on one of these ridiculous trips and die and I won’t ever see you again.”

James suddenly felt a twist in his stomach. “Q . . .”

“I know you’re a criminal, James. I don’t understand why after all this time you keep lying to me. It is obvious that you are not really a salesman for some export company. I’ve asked you to quit but you won’t. I know you have to go . . . I just wanted to have . . . just a memory before . . . before you left me too.”

The thought of losing Q burned. He didn’t want to leave Q. He wanted what they had, right now, just as it was. James tightened his grip on Q’s neck and pulled the young man closer. Q easily followed James’ movements until James lips covered Q’s. The kiss was passionate and deep. Q moaned as his hands came up and rested on James’ shoulders as James’ other hand gently pulled Q back into his lap.

As the kiss ended, James pulled Q back with the hand on his neck. Q slowly opened his eyes and smiled. The two men looked carefully at each other. Guilt slipped through James’ veins.

“Q, I’m not going to leave you. I will always return to you. I’m lucky too to have you in my life. You are so very special and unique. But this . . . this is not right. I’m your . . . I don’t know . . . guardian. I can’t let this go any further. Regardless . . .”

“James, I’m of age now. I want this.”

“No, you really don’t. You want . . . need someone your own age.” James said softly. Almost a whisper. Regret fogging his mind.

“You’re only fifteen years older than me. According to the files at school on me, your only twelve years older. It’s not that much.”

“It is worlds apart, Q. And you know it.” James gently guided Q off his lap and back onto the couch. The man felt the loss of warmth and he craved the contact with the young man, but James knew he couldn’t let it happen. “You are raw right now. You just found out Donny was dead. You never sorted out your feelings for him obviously and now you can’t have closure. It’s not a good time for you to make decisions right now about who you want to be with.”

Q ducked his head and looked down at his hands. “Are you ever going to see me as anyone other than that little boy you save from being beaten up?”

“I don’t . . . I don’t know.” James let his hand drop from Q’s neck. His fingers still felt warm from the boy’s skin.

“I’m just as dangerous as you, James. I may not carry a gun but I can do just as much damage with my computer.”

James smiled and laughed a little. Q’s head shot up and he glared at the man.

“McDonald Douglass has sent head hunters after me, and Maxim Nordenfelt. The MOD sent someone to try and hire me last month but I turned them down!”

“Why?” This being the first James had heard of companies offering Q a job.

“Because I can’t work for the Ministry of Defense while living with a criminal!”

“Q, I’m not a criminal. I’m . . . I’m actually a good guy. I work for . . . the government.”

Q glared at James.

“What are you trying to tell me, you’re some kind of spy? Really, James how naïve do you think I am. I’ve seen you and Alec. I’ve seen how you both carry yourselves . . . the scars . . . the guns. Don’t tell me you’re some kind of hero now. I’m not fourteen anymore.”

Q stood up and marched around the room.

“I don’t know why you won’t tell me the truth. I know you work with Carmine and Marcus, but they are just as cryptic as you are. I’ve hacked that stupid company of yours a dozen times. Universal Exports! What a joke. I’m sure the British government would have a better cover for you than that!” Q continued.

James sat on the couch trying to follow the surreal conversation. He had always been told to lie about his work, and when he finally told the truth, Q didn’t believe him. Bond sat and watched the young man work himself up into a manic meltdown.

“Q, would just sit down and let me talk to you.”

“What and be treated like a fool? Like I don’t know what I really want?” Q turned and glared at James. “I want you! I want to kiss you and be with you! I want to hold you and touch you! Why can’t you see it? What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Q.” James stood. He went to try and calm the young man down.

Q pushed James back as the man tried to pull him into a hug.

“Stop treating me like a child! At least Donny didn’t treat me like I was an idiot.”

Q stepped over and grabbed his jacket hanging next to the front door. He shoved his arms through the sleeves as violently as he could.

“Where are you going?” James asked remaining still in the room.

“Out! Maybe I’ll get lucky at the ‘French Horse’.” The door slammed as Q left the flat.

James stood staring at the closed door. He couldn’t believe the young man just threatened to pick some random person up at the gay bar. He raced to the door and followed Q out. The young man was already gone from the lobby by the time James got there.

He quickly grabbed his mobile and called Alec.

“Glad you called, I was thinking . . .” Alec answer the phone.

“Alec, Q’s taken off.” James interrupted his friend.

“What?”

“He’s going to the ‘French Horse’, get there and stop him.” Alec groaned. He didn’t want to spend his evening in the gay bar trying to track down the young man. “I’m on my way. Grab him if you see him.”

“James, he’s over eighteen.”

“But still too young to be drinking alone. He’s upset. He’s not thinking clearly.”

“Why what happened?”

James climbed into his car and revved the engine before pulling out of the parking garage and into traffic.

“I may have hurt his feelings.”

“James?” Alec drew out his name.

“Q made a pass at me.”

“Well, it’s about time. Good for him.” James could hear Alec laughing on the other end of the line.

“This isn’t the time Alec. He only did it because that bastard Donny was killed. He’s feeling lonely and he misplaced his feelings on me.”

James could hear the man on the other end of line moving too. Alec was in his car heading to Soho.

“James, Q has feelings for you. We’ve all seen it.”

“No he doesn’t. Who’s seen it?”

“Carmine and I’m pretty sure anyone else who has been around you two. The kid worships you.”

“Just stop him, Alec. Don’t let him do something stupid.”

James disconnected the call and drove through the crowded afternoon traffic to the Soho. He ran every argument he could think of to convince Q they shouldn’t be together. For each argument he came up with, James knew he couldn’t use it, because he wanted them to be together too. Regardless of how often James denied it, he wanted the young man. He wanted Q in his life in every way possible. James knew he had to stop Q now. He had to convince the young man to come home with him one more time. One more time and forever.

It just simply had never occurred to James that Q would ever look at him as anything other than a big brother or older friend. He had dreamt of that young man looking up at him, those big green eyes watching him. Of kissing those ridiculous dark full lips. Of dragging his fingers through Q’s hair. James wanted more and when it was offered to him, he turned the man down. James growled and want to slap himself.

He needed to stop Q, before the young man did something to hurt both of them. He pulled his car to stop three blocks for the cordoned off area. He quickly made his way through the growing crowds of party goers who were flooding into the district. As he turned to go down the street towards the pup, he heard a familiar voice in an ally.

“Look I was mistaken, sorry, but no.”

James stopped and looked between the buildings. The alley was narrow. Too narrow for a car. Bins blocked his view but he could see one man leaning into another. The second man seemed to be trying pushing the first guy away. James took off down the alley.

“Com’on, you do me, and I’ll do you.” The first man purred.

“I’m sorry, but . . .” Q said. The man pushed hard and Q bounced into the wall.

Before James reached them, Q punched out, hitting the man in the diaphragm. The second man gasped and fell backwards. Q then raised his knee, hard and fast; catching the man in the bollocks.

“I SAID NO!”

The man collapsed to the ground, groaning and grabbing his groin. Q stepped over him and out into the alley. He looked up and saw James rushing towards him. Q stopped and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t need you either.” He went to walk pass James, but the blonde grabbed him.

James let his fingers slip up behind Q’s head and rub over the spot that had hit the brick wall. James checked for any injuries before he pulled the young man closer to him.

“Can we go home, please?” James asked.

“Why?”

“I want to talk about this.”

Q looked back at the man still on the ground moaning. Then up at James.

“Do you understand, I’m not some helpless little boy?”

“Yes.” James smiled. “Anything but.”

Q smiled back and leaned slightly forward. James watched, then mirrored his movement till they were close enough to kiss. They stared at each other for a moment, sharing each other’s breath.

James took Q’s hand and walked him back to the car. James pulled Q over to the stick shift and into his lap. Q wrapped his arms around James’ shoulders and they kissed. James licking into Q’s mouth, enjoying the spicy taste of the younger man.

“Let’s go home.” Q whispered into James’ mouth. The older man smiled and gently eased Q off his lap and back into the passenger seat. They drove back to the flat. Touching and holding each other as much as they could in the confined space in the car. Just as they entered the building, James’ mobile rang. He had a brief one side conversation.

“Where? . . . How soon? . . . Alright, I’m leaving now.”

They entered the flat.

“You have to leave?” Q asked saddened.

“Yes, it’s an emergency but when I get back, I’m taking time off. We are going to go away for a while. Can you miss a month of school?”

“I’m practically teaching the course now.” Q said. “Where are you going to take me?”

“There’s some place in Scotland I want to show you. Some place special.” James smiled and moved closer to Q. He pulled the young man into a hug and slowly moved down to kiss his lips.

Q sighed and leaned heavily into Bond’s arms. “James does this mean . . .”

“It means, when I get back we are going to have a long talk and set all of our cards on the table. I won’t think of you as a teenager anymore and you won’t think of me as some hero.”

Q smiled. “Like I ever did.” He teased. “Where are you going and how long will you be gone?”

“Less than a week. Istanbul.”

“Istanbul, sounds exciting.” Q smiled.

“Not as exciting as you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you all enough for the wonderful comments. Some of you guessed what Q's fake name was. You beat me to the reveal. Oh well, I'm glad you are all having fun with this story. It just seems to keep growing. I wasn't planning it be this long. The next chapter will be Alec's, 003 and Tanner's pov on James' and Q's relationship.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q growing up through the eyes of different people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some one wanted to know what growing up with James was like for Q. This is a strange little chapter about Q's interaction with three people at different times in his life. Alec at ages fifteen, and nineteen. Carmine, 003, at age sixteen and with Tanner ages fifteen and nineteen.

Alec

Q at fifteen

Alec watched as the relationship between James and the boy evolved. He remembered seeing the fourteen year old for the first time outside James’ building in the earlier evening. The young man, no the boy was frightened and bruised. James didn’t seem surprised by the young man’s appearance. If anything, James was protective.

After Q moved in, the subtle changes began to happen.

James and Alec had returned from separate missions that day and both were looking to go out and burn off excess adrenaline. Find a pub they could destroy with a brawl or some female companions who were willing to be pleasured over and over again. It was working up to an eventful evening of avoiding local law enforcement.

The door of the flat swung open hard and banged into the wall. Q was attending UCL when he came crashing into the flat. He stormed in and slammed the door shut. Q, who normally treated his messenger bag with his laptop, like a precious artifact, flung his bag off his shoulder and deposited it with a thud in the leather chair.

“I will buy you only one computer,” James said in a threating tone. “If you break it, you will have to pay replacement the next one yourself.”

Q glared at James and the older man returned the cold stare.

“Damn it James. They’re idiots!”

“Who?” James remained calm but his voice was still deep with an edge of intimidation. Q ignored it.

“That fucking Bormann. Acts like he knows everything. I can out code him any bloody day of the week.”

Alec could see James relax. Apparently this had been an ongoing problem.

“You said ‘they’. Who other than Bormann is an idiot?”

“All my bloody teachers. Every damn one of them . . . except Emmie.”

“Ms. Fleischer?” James gave Alec a quick sideways glance.

James sighed and stood up. He took measured steps over the distraught teenager. James set his right hand on Q’s neck. His palm wrapped around the nape of Q’s long thin neck.

“We’ve talked about this. Sometimes people get into position where they have power over you. People who are obviously not as intelligent or experienced as you are. If you are lucky they won’t know it. If you are unlucky, you have to cope with their insecurities and jealousy. Bormann is envious of you. He will never have what you will achieve. He sees you and knows his life will never get better and yours . . . well, from now on, yours will only get better.”

Alec watched as Q’s shoulders slumped and the young man stepped forward. He wrapped his long arms around James’ waist and rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder.

“Thank you, James. You always make me feel better.”

Alec watched as the two held each other for just a few seconds then separated.

“Alec! Good to see you. Are you here for an all-night video game fest?” Q asked shifting emotions rapidly and excited to see the other agent.

Alec looked up into the young man’s face. _‘A night of uninhibited alpha male behavior or shooting zombies with the kid.’_ Alec thought. He looked at James’ face. The blonde’s neutral expression was impossible for anyone else to read but Alec knew what James was hoping for.

“You pick the first game, kid. I’ll order the pizza.”

~Q~

Q at nineteen

Alec knew the biggest shift in their relationship came at the most insignificant moment. A poker game. They had their monthly game with three other members from MI6. Everyone knew that they were to keep Q believe they worked together for Universal Exports. Although, occasional comments were made and Q would look as if he wanted to run and hide from the game.

The evening had waned into earlier morning. Empty liquor bottles lined the counters in the kitchen along with partially emptied takeaway containers. It had been a long game and it was down to James, 008 and Q. Carmine, and 002 were snoring softly on the couch and chair respectively. Alec was leaning on his hand watching the game as 008 smiled and pushed in all of his chips.

“Go ahead, meet my bet.”

James gave a seductive smile and carefully started counting chips. He knew how much he had, it was just a ploy to add to 008’s tension. James nodded and pushed his pile of chips in. Q looked carefully at the two men and then laid his cards face down. He added his chips to the pot.

008 have a straight, where James had a full house of queens and fours. He reached for the pot, but Q took James’ hand and held it as he laid his cards over. Straight flush. 008’s head hit the table. His forehead making a soft thumping sound as the man repeatedly hit his head on the table.

“Why do I even try to play against you two? He’s just like you, James. Lethal.”        

James smiled and looked at Q. Alec noticed they were still holding hands. James’ thumb lightly stroking over Q’s knuckles.

~Q~

Q at nineteen

Alec returned to London five days after James had reportedly been shot in Turkey. As soon as he heard the news, he went looking for Q. The Russian feared how Q would take the news. He found the young man in a room alone. Q sat very still. Apparently, he had already been told about James.

“Q?” Alec asked hesitantly.

The young man looked up, his face was blank and his eyes seemed dull and lifeless. Slowly he rose from his seat. Alec raced through his mind what to say to the man. How to help Q through this. Q looked so impassive. So removed. Alec never saw the fist coming.

Q hit him hard in the side of his face. The surprise of the punch and sheer force of Q’s anger knocked Alec off his feet. The blonde Russian quickly regained himself and was back up on his feet. He would never hit Q but he would defend himself.

“ALL THIS TIME! FUCKING MI6! GET OUT! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!” Q shouted. “LIARS! ALL OF YOU LIARS!”

“They’re sending me to help retrieve . . . to bring James home.” Alec said quietly.

“I SAID GET OUT!” Q turned his back on the man and walked back to the chair. Alec left him alone.

A week later, he returned from Turkey. There had been no trace of James’ body. It had most probably washed out to sea. His best friend was gone. He would never hear that self-deprecating laugh again. He would never share a drink or a woman with him again. James was gone.

He knocked on the door for Q’s flat. The door opened and the young man stood there staring out at the agent. Q’s frame was slumped; he was wearing a pair of ratty sweat bottoms and one of James’ old t-shirts. Q’s eyes were red rimmed and dark bruises smudged the pale skin under his lashes. He seemed smaller and more fragile than ever before.

“I sorry. We didn’t . . .”

Ale didn’t say thing more. Q stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Alec and burst into tears again. James was gone and Q the clinging to the last memories he had on the man.

~Q~

003

Q at sixteen

Carmine Reynolds had been a double ‘O’ for four years. Coming up through the ranks of Scotland Yard, then a short stay at MI5 before she was accepted to MI6. She never really fit in to the ‘Old Boys Network’ but she had proved herself resourceful and determined. She made double ‘O’ in less than four years and had a high success rate on her missions.

She was of Italian extraction, her father marrying the daughter of an Italian immigrant. Her years at the Met had shown her one too many homeless boys pushed into a life of prostitution and drugs to ignore what she saw at Bond’s flat after her first invite to a famous poker game between the other double ‘O’s.

The boy was young and went by the name of Q. No one seemed concerned by his presence in a bachelor’s flat, or the fact the Bond didn’t explain exactly who he was. Without a real name, Carmine was unable to access the records on the boy, but she noticed the scars. Barely visible needle marks on his left arm. A nasty gash to his left ear. He also seemed to favor his left leg. Something had happened to the right.

Carmine didn’t want to accuse Bond of abusing the boy, but someone had and the blonde agent was not forthcoming with an explanation. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t already witness the most upstanding citizens in the city of London do the most horrific things behind closed doors.

She walked up the concierge’s desk in James’ building and announced she was a friend of Mister Bond and to please announce her. She knew James was out of the country on a mission but Q was supposed to be living in the flat. James had left a sixteen year old alone in his five hundred thousand pound flat. What was the man thinking?

The concierge, after speaking to someone on the phone, escorted Carmine to the lift. He swiped the card and the doors opened. She smiled at the man and stepped in. He reached in and pressed the button for James’ floor. She tried to not groan. It was rather sexist of him to believe she was incapable of pressing the button herself.

The doors closed and she immediately saw her reflection in the mirrored doors. She was dressed in a warm mustard yellow cardigan over a pair of blue and grey checked slacks. She picked out an outfit that would be as un-intimidating as she could to speak to the young man. It was a simple plan. Talk Q into leaving James’ flat and get him into a safer situation. Specifically her flat. She lived with her younger brother since her parents had died several years ago and it would be the perfect solution. If she couldn’t talk Q into leaving the debauched situation he was in, there was always the black jack in her purse for her to persuade him.

She knocked on the door and it was immediately answered by Q. The young man was standing in UCL sweatshirt and a pair of dark jeans. He was barefoot and his hair was the adorable rat’s nest she remembered.

“Carmine! Come in. Good to see you. Ah . . . James is not here right now.” Q said holding the door open for her.

The woman entered the flat and looked around. She gave the flat a quick assessment. There was an empty pizza box on the coffee table and several empty soda cans and beer bottles across the wooden surface. She could see the kitchen table was littered with books and a laptop computer. The flat smelled of cigarettes and she frowned. If Q was smoking, she was going to have to put a stop to that.

Then she heard it. The shower was running.

“Are you alone?” She heard the shower shut off and a heavy groan come from behind the closed door.

“Ah . . . no.”

“Does James allow you have overnight guest over when he is not here?” She was beginning to wish she had brought her gun instead of just the black jack. The sixteen year old boy apparently had a girl over while James was away.

“Well, he’s not really a guest.” Q shifted awkwardly on his bare feet.

The door of the bathroom opened and Alec Trevelyan stepped out wearing only a towel around his waist while drying hair with another. Alec’s eyes locked onto Carmine and it took him a moment to recognize her as friend and not foe. She was still making the decision about him.

“Carmine, what brings you here so early in the morning?” Alec asked. The tone of his voice was not welcoming.

“I came to check on Q. What are you doing here?” She wasn’t about to back down to the more experience double ‘O’.

“How about I get some coffee for you two.” Q said as he quickly rushed into the kitchen.

“Well, if you must know . . . I keep an eye on the kid when James is out of town.” Alec said in a low voice to not be over heard from the kitchen.

“And who keeps an eye on the kid when he is in town?” Carmine raised an eyebrow.

“Carmine . . .” Alec growled in a deep voice. “Careful what you are thinking.”

“What am I supposed to think!?” She took a step closer to the near naked man. She whispered harshly. “He is sixteen years old and living with a known Lothario. Now, I find you here . . .” She waved here hand at his naked body. “What are the two of you doing with that boy?”

“Keeping him off the streets, bitch!” Alec growled again.

“What?”

“He was a homeless kid that latched onto James a few years ago. After he got the crap beat out of him last year by his boyfriend, James let him come here to live. He is going to school and as far as I can tell, he is ready to take the place over. Nothing is going on between the two of them.” Alec looked over that the kitchen door as Q emerged with two mugs of coffee.

“I think I remembered how you took it. Both black, correct?” Q said trying to act like he hadn’t heard what the two were arguing about.

“Yes, thank you.” Carmine said as she took the mug offered her.

Alec took his then said. “I’m going to get dressed. I’ll be right back.” The threat towards Carmine was implied in his voice.

Q stood silently watching as Alec walked to James’ bedroom and slammed the door. The young boy jumped slightly at the bang. Carmine turned quickly and started to speak.

“Q you don’t have to . . .”

“No I don’t but I want to.” He interrupted her. He cocked his head to the side studying the woman. “You used to be a cop, weren’t you?”

“How do you know?”

“The way you kept looking at me the other night. Cops always looked at me that way when I was living on the streets. Like I was just before going to do something to get me arrested. No one looks that way at me anymore. People trust me now. They think better of me. They don’t naturally assume I’m going to rob them or . . . proposition them. It’s nice.” A quick smile came to his lips. “None of James’ friends look down on me, but you . . . you looked at me like I was homeless again.”

She felt a burning in her chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize I was doing it.

“Well, it’s the cop in you. You should work on it. It won’t be good if you are out . . . working and you slip back into an old routine. It could get you killed.”

Carmine narrowed her eyes at the boy for a moment. She shifted her stance to a more defensive position.

“What do you mean? You know we work for in imports and exports.”

Q sighed and stepped away from the woman. He started picking up the empty soda cans and two beer bottles.

“Yeah, I know that’s what James says to me every time he comes home with cuts from knives or holes from bullets. You do know I’m a student at UCL. I’m top of my class. They want to test my IQ. I’m not some idiot.”

Carmine decided to push the issue. “What do you think we do?”

Q looked up quickly at the woman. His eyes glanced down the hallway at the closed bedroom door. “I think you do something that if I knew about I could be targeted too. I think James has Alec come over here because he is afraid his enemies will use me against him. I think James and Alec and you and everyone else I’ve met in this flat is in . . .”

The door opened and Alec came out dressed in khakis and a white dress shirt. Q quickly returned to cleaning up the living room.

“You’re still here?” Alec glared at the woman.

“I was just offering Q a place to stay while James was away.” Carmine’s voice had softened and Alec’s expression shifted to questionable.

“Oh, he likes it here even if I’m not here to play video games with.”

“Carmine, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m at class most of the day anyway, so I only get home late. Anyway, James should be home early this time. He told me.” Q said with his arms full of empty cans and bottles.

“But still, Q, you’re only sixteen.”

Q smiled. “I’m sorry, the records at UCL say I’m nineteen. You must be mistaken.”

Carmine looked confused, then Alec smile and turned to the woman.

“See, Carmine. Old enough to be one his own. You don’t need to stick your nose in where it is not wanted.” Alec grinned as the woman sneered at him.

“But Carmine, please come by whenever you want. I want to be friends.” Q smiled. “Besides, I would really like to know where you buy your clothes. James keeps trying to dress me like a banker. I love your cardigan.”

Carmine smiled at Alec like the cat who ate the canary. “We’ll go shopping at some of my favorite stores. They’re just east of Piccadilly. Now, tell me which video games you were playing. I’m pretty wicked at ‘Left Behind’.”

Q seemed to bounce with joy as Alec groaned internally. He couldn’t wait for James to return.

~Q~

Tanner

Q at fifteen

Tanner looked over the reports from Bolivia regarding Bond’s latest escapade. The crashed DC3 was a minor issue. A small payment to the owner would settle any complaints from the Bolivian government. The Americans, on the other hand, were not going to be so easy to appease. They wanted Bond’s head on a platter and M was just about ready to give it to them. The death of agent Fields was avoidable.

The phone on Tanner’s desk rang and the man answered it while still reading through the report from La Paz.

“Sir,” it was Tanner’s assistant. “We have a situation involving 007.”

Tanner set the paper down and rolled his eyes. It seemed like every other disaster he dealt with had to do with Bond now.

“What is it?”

“Queen Mary’s Hospital has called in the Universal Export phone line. They are claiming there is a minor in the hospital claiming that Bond is his legal guardian.”

“What? Bond a legal guardian to whom?”

“I’m not sure sir. It’s the A and E.” The assistant said.

“Alright, let me speak to them.” Tanner immediately thought it was a covert attempt to check on the cover for Bond. Someone in Bolivia or Austria was checking up on the operative’s background. “Hello, this Bill Tanner of Universal Exports, how may I help you?”

“Sir, I’m Sister Margret Crawford of Queen Mary’s. A teenage boy was brought to A and E by ambulance. The police are here with him. He refuses to give his real name. Claims his name is Q. Before he lost conscious he gave James Bond of Universal Exports as his contact person. May I speak to Mister Bond?”

Tanner’s mind quickly slipped back a year ago to the poker game at James’ flat and the young boy he was wearing James’ clothes. The agent never explained who the boy was. Only giving the name Q to everyone at the game. He remembered the boy was gone when Tanner woke in the morning and nothing more had ever been said about him. James never mentioned the boy again and Tanner thought it was a one time thing.

“I’m sorry, Mister Bond is traveling for business outside the country right now. What has happened to the boy?”

Tanner heard the woman hum slightly to herself. “Well, I can’t go into detail but it appears he is the victim of an assault. The police are here and wish to speak to a legal guardian.”

Tanner remembered the small teenager with the bright hazel eyes and wary look about him. He remembered how intelligent Q was and how fast he learned the game.

“I will be there in twenty minutes, Sister. Please inform the police I will take full responsibility for the boy until Mister Bond returns.”

“Thank you.” The line disconnected.

Tanner immediately called internal security and gave orders for two bodyguards to accompany him. He then ordered a car.

Tanner and the two guards entered through the ambulance entrance of the hospital and bypassed the metal detectors on the other doors. One guard was dressed in a dirty rugby jersey and torn jeans. He had a fake cast on his left forearm and a holstered gun at the small of his back. He took a position in the waiting room, keeping his eyes on the other people waiting as well as the doors.

The second guard was wearing blue hospital scrubs and white trainers. He had a fake hospital ID badge clipped to his pocket. As he walked into the A and E department, he grabbed a file from the counter and stepped over to the side. He leaned against the wall and appeared to be reading the file, while keeping an eye on the other patients and staff. He too was armed.

Tanner stepped up to the desk and leaned over the tall counter to speak to a woman busy typing away at a computer.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for Sister Crawford. I’m Bill Tanner.”

The woman looked up at him. Her grey hair was slowly escaping from the bun pinned to the back of her skull. The lines and creases of her face gave her a permanent scowl.

“I’m Sister Margret. Thank you for coming so quickly. The police went to get some coffee but I suspect they will be back soon.”

She rose from her chair and picked up the file beside her. She stepped around the counter and started walking to a bed in the corner. Tanner looked over and saw the wild nest of dark hair. The small pale face he remembered from a year ago was barely recognizable.

Q was probably fifteen now and rail then. His face was various shades of black, blue and dark red. His eyes were shut and his dark lashes were smudge across this thin face.

“What happened to him?” Tanner whispered.

“He was beaten badly. Something hard hit the side of head. Left ear and scalp lacerated. Probable concussion. He has multiple bruises to his upper body and arms. Two broken ribs and his right lower leg is broken. It appears someone stomped on it. There is swelling in his brain but the doctors can’t proceed with treatment because . . .” she looked down at the file. “He tested positive for heroin and methamphetamines. They want to start dialysis first before they give him anything to reduce the swelling.”

“You need permission? Do it. I will take full responsibility.”

“Thank you. There will be papers you will need to sign.” The Sister said.

Tanner kept looking at the injured boy. “Was he . . . uhm . . . interfered with?”

“There was bruising or tears but it appears to have been several weeks old. It didn’t occur the same time at the beating. Who is Mister Bond to this boy?”

Tanner wondered that too. He never asked Bond anything about the boy after he woke up and found the young man gone.

“Q is . . . a distant relative to Mister Bond. He has no other family. He is homeless.”

“That is what the police said. They took his fingerprints once he got here and ran them though their data base. They said his name is Quain Thibodaux, fifteen year old runaway.”

Tanner didn’t know if that was correct or not but he couldn’t let this boy suffer anymore. He looked so helpless and weak in the hospital bed. Tanner nodded to the woman and pulled out his mobile.

“No phones in hospital. Please use it outside.” Sister Margret walked off to tell the doctor they had permission to start invasive treatment.

Tanner stepped up to the guard dressed as a doctor.

“Keep an eye on him. I am going to get him entered into a private room and designated as a security risk.”

The guard nodded and went back to reading the stole file. Tanner moved away and out the door of the A and E. He wasn’t sure what Bond had done, but this boy was now a major security risk if he knew to rely on Universal Exports to find 007.

~Q~

Q at nineteen

Tanner was sitting in his office looking over the transcripts from the last mission Bond had been on. He had been in the room when M had given the order for Moneypenny to shoot but no one, not even M thought Bond would be the one hit. Everyone was stunned. It couldn’t be. The invincible agent was dead. Multiple witnesses from the train confirmed seeing him fall into the crevasse and the cold water of the fast moving river swept the body way. It was over. He was gone.

Now, five days later it was time to lay James Bond to rest. A team was going to be dispatched to locate the body and try to return it to England. There were other things that now needed to be done. M insisted that she would write the obituary. Tanner had to make arrangements for the man’s belongings. At least there wasn’t any relatives that had to be notified. James lived alone. He was an orphan, like many of the other double ‘O’s with no one to morn his passing but the members on MI6.

Tanner had sent a team over to Bond’s flat to start inventorying the man’s possessions and decide what should be sold and what should be put into storage. He thought for a moment it was ridiculous to put anything into storage. The man was gone. Who would want any of it? But M had insisted. Maybe she had a soft spot for 006 and he would want token reminders of his best friend.

The phone rang on Tanner’s desk and he answered it a bit heatedly. “What is it?” he snapped.

“Sir, this is Roberts. There is a problem.”

“What, the concierge won’t allow you into the flat?” Tanner sighed. The idea of MI6 employees being stopped by an officious overpaid doorman was insulting.

“No, sir. There’s . . . sir, Mister Bond’s cousin won’t let us in.”

“HIS WHAT!?” Tanner shouted into the phone. “BOND DOESN’T HAVE ANY COUSINS! ARREST THE MAN AND BRING HIM HERE!”

This was incomprehensible. The man gave his life for his country and some piece of scum was trying to squat in his flat and probably steal his belongings. Tanner promised to bury this criminal in the deepest darkest hole he could find.

Four hours later, Tanner was confused and stunned. In front of him he had two separate files. One was on Quentin Bond, twenty-two years old, newly appointed professor at Imperial College. Their youngest. The other was on a fifteen year old boy from four years ago who had claimed Bond was his legal guardian. Despite the fact there was a discrepancy in ages and the names, the photos were of the same person. One four years older than the other, but the same person. Even more strange was the fact that according to every electronic file Tanner had access to (which was practically every electronic file in the world) Quain Thibodaux did not exist, never had. And Quentin Bond had a complete dossier going back to his birth in Scotland. The only reason he had the file on Quain on his desk, was he had kept a hard copy file with Bond’s record after the incident at Queen Mary’s when the young man had been attacked.

He entered the room in interrogation and looked over at the young man sitting at the table. His hands were handcuffed and attached to the table. The young man looked up and blinked several times then a quick smile came and went from his lips.

“I know you, don’t I? Tanner? Correct?”

“I thought I knew you.” Tanner said as he sat down on the opposite side of the table. He set the two files down where Q could read them. “I remember a young teenager at Bond’s flat five years ago, then a homeless boy in hospital a year later.”

Q looked down at the file then back up at Tanner. “Where did you get that?”

Tanner ignored Q and continued. “Now I meet the grown boy but he is going by the name Dr. Quentin Bond with two PhD’s from Imperial. He has sold three different computer programs to Maxim Nordenfelt, and American defense contractors for twenty-three million pounds. We have only found a modest bank account here, but we have traced deposits to at least three accounts in Switzerland and one in the Grand Caymans. You are worth millions of pounds but work as a professor at Imperial for less than twenty-three thousand pounds a year.”

“There are four accounts in Switzerland.” Q said softly. Tanner looked up at the calm tone of Q’s voice. The comment threw Tanner off his line of thought.

“I’ve known James Bond for fifteen years. I have complete records for him dating back to his time in the Navy and SBS. He never listed any living family. No next of kin. Alec Trevelyan is his closest friend and listed as his only heir.” Q looked down at his hands. “So who are you?”

“I will not tell you anything about James. So don’t even waste your time asking. Even if he asked you over to his flat, you are obviously governmental agent. There is no evidence against me so you really can’t touch me. I achieved my doctorates legally and am a respected by members of the defense industry. If you try to detain me, members of MOD will have your head.” Q kept his stare steady and calm at Tanner. Never raising his voice or looking distressed.

“Q, no one knows you are here and I don’t need to ask you any questions about James Bond. I want to know how you completely erased your past and reinvented yourself. It was such a complete job, I couldn’t find a single trace of you. Not in NHS or criminal records, or anywhere. You even were able to get through our firewalls and delete yourself.”

Q looked up and seemed confused for a moment. “Your firewalls?” Tanner didn’t answer the question but kept looking at the young man. Q shrugged. “Universal Exports is a cover for something. I knew years ago it was a criminal activity. You have idiots working for you if you couldn’t tell.”

Tanner leaned back. So here was the hacker who informed Bond of the mistakes in the Universal Export cover. He had marched in and berated R in TSS. He showed R in ten minutes how they had made the simple mistake of mixing up dates. It took six months for TSS to correct their mistakes. Every few months Bond would return with another correction to be made to the system. Bond never explained how he caught the errors, but no one believed he was finding them himself.

“You’re him? Aren’t you?”

Q looked confused for a moment. “Whom?"

“The hacker who's been working with James?”

“I told you I will not tell you anything about James. So go ahead and arrest me. You won’t learn a thing.”

“Arrest you?”

“I know who James is and I won’t betray him.”

“Quain or Quentin, whatever name you go by, what I am about to tell you is in violation of several laws including the Official State Secrets Act. I have some unfortunate news to tell you.” Tanner knew the boy was innocent and deserved to know the truth.

Q tried to sit up straighter. He thinned his lips and fisted his hand. He had dealt with cops before.

“James Bond was . . . he was an operative for his Majesty government. He worked for MI6.”

“Worked for MI6 before going rogue?” Q said in a half voice. Q’s mind was trying to slot the information with the evidence he had.

“James never went rogue . . . he was always working for Queen and country. He was killed in action five days ago.” Q blanched immediately.

“He’s . . . dead?”

“Yes.”

“But he’s supposed to come home tomorrow.”

“He won’t ever be coming home. Now you must make a decision.”

“What decision?”

“Whether you wish to go to jail or not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm rewriting the Skyfall chapter because FF Fan wrote a terrific version of the scene and I wanted to improve mine. It will be up in a few days. Thanks so much for the wonderful comments and suggestions. I'm glad you are enjoying this story. Some of you know that a book editor told me once that my writing should never be inflected on another human being. I quit writing for several years. I'm so happy he was idiot because I really do enjoy writing. Thank you all for giving me confidence.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of Skyfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to the last chapter in this story. Thank you for the wonderful comments and support. You all make me blush.

_“Take the bloody shot!”_ James was floating in darkness. The only sense he had was hearing and the only voice he heard was M’s telling Eve to shoot. To risk James’ life for the damn hard drive. His mind couldn’t determine if it was night or day. Was he standing or sitting. Maybe he was laying down. He couldn’t feel his body but he knew it had to be in pain. He had been shot. He had fallen over a hundred feet into ice cold water. He should feel something but he felt nothing. All he had was the darkness and M’s voice demanding Eve shoot.

It was a nauseating reality. M turned her back on him. Ignored the years they had relied on each other. Betrayed him. The woman he had regarded more than anyone else betrayed him too. It spoke volumes to his value. M who had protected him and guided him now let him die. Maybe she saw things he refused to see. The slowing of his step, the shake in his hand, the twitch in his eye as his fingers encircled the grip of the gun. He was used up and empty. There was nothing left of him. Nothing worth saving. M knew and now he knew it.

_“Take the bloody shot!”_ The room was dark and the only sound was the waves lapping slowly up the beach. James woke up abruptly. His heart racing, his breathing rapid. His body ached as the adrenaline rushed through his muscles. _“Take the bloody shot!”_ M’s voice echoed in James’ mind. The dream reoccurring pushing him out of his sleep. The memory of her betrayal. M’s abandonment. The bitch.

James twisted and rolled out of bed. His skin slick from sweat. It had been three months and his body still ached from the gunshot and the fall. The woman beside him groaned slightly but didn’t wake. His shoulder throbbed as he moved. Rubbing at it, he went to the sink and grabbed the medicine bottle. He popped the lid and dry swallowed two of the little pills. The pain would easy off soon he hoped. He looked up at the refection in the mirror. He no longer recognized the man staring back at him. The blonde hair now flecked with grey. The scruffy beard growth, the sad dull eyes that couldn’t blink. James was missing. He was gone. He was dead to the rest of world. She had killed him. Ordered the shot that pushed him off the train and to his death.

James had given his life to his county, to his queen and to M. His body and soul was theirs to do with as they saw fit. He had bled for them, time and time again. His reward for years of service was doubt. M did not have faith in him to get the job done. She gave him a bullet instead of her trust. Maybe she was right. Maybe there was nothing left to believe in. Maybe James Bond really was dead and his was just living in his own personal hell.

He reached up and turned off the light. ‘ _This couldn’t be hell’_ he thought. ‘ _Hell didn’t feel this shitty’_. James dressed and walked down the beach to the bar. Bond would take any dare and do any stupid act to just not think for the night. The barman let him stay because he always drew a crowd. Tonight was no exception. The cheers and jeers, the alcohol; the numb feeling when the day light came. The empty void were only regret dwelled.

He didn’t want to think about what happened before he woke up in the woman’s shack. He didn’t want to remember what had been, who he had known. He couldn’t face the accusing faces of Alec and Tanner, of 008 and Felix. He couldn’t handle the sadness in Q’s eyes because James wasn’t the hero the young man believed he was.

James sat in the empty bar as the sun started to warm the beach. The same stranger was looking back at him from the mirror on the other side of the bar. The same hollow eyes that used to shine like fire through ice. The same blank stare he had been seeing for the last three months. He hated that stranger.

Then an image in the reflection caught his attention. Something he knew, he loved. James turned at looked at the news report from London. MI6 bombed. Major terrorist attack. Six dead, many more injured. His home attacked.

The stranger in the mirror disappeared.

~Q~

It was late when M arrived home. The rain had been falling all day. Eight dead so far. Five more in hospital on life support. All under her watch. She burned with anger. She entered her darken townhouse and went to pour herself a bourbon. The rustling noise behind her announced his presence.

“Where the devil have you been?” She snapped at him.

“Enjoying death,” James took a sip of his drink he had pilfered. “007, reporting for duty.” She asked where he had been. “What you didn’t get the postcard. You should try it sometime . . . get away from it all . . . it really lends perspective. What was you said? Take. The. Bloody. Shot.” He said accusingly.

Instead of apologizing, she attacked him. “It was a judgement call, a possibility of losing you or the certainty of losing all those other agents.”

There it was. The conformation she no longer trusted him to complete the job. He was no longer up for the game. He was too old to play it any longer, maybe they both were.

“Then why did you come back?” she asked. He shrugged. “Because we are under attack. . . . And you know we need you.”

He sighed. “Well, I’m back.”

He knew he had returned to England, but to what he had returned he didn’t know. Would anyone want him there? M didn’t seem overly joyful to see his return. He wondered about if anyone would.

“You will need to be debriefed and cleared for active duty. You will have to pass the test first so take them seriously.” She looked him up and down. “A shower might be in order.” She turned to walk away.

“I’ll go home and changed.”

“Oh, we sold your flat.” She said as she turned back towards him. A smug expression on her face. “Put your things in storage. Standard procedure on the death of an unmarried employee with no next of kin.”

James stood stunned in the middle of M’s townhouse. The flat was gone. Q was gone. He felt a coldness move through him he hadn’t felt since sitting on a roof top in Venice. The day Vesper died. He lost Q.

It wasn’t as if he expected the young man to wait for him to return. James knew Q was an adult and would of course choose to move on, but when the ability to see the young man again had been taken away from him. When he realized he was the reason for Q to be gone, it burned.

Why was the thought of Q not being there when he return so painful? Q was free live his life anywhere he chose. He was better off with James out of his life. James tried to be altruistic but he couldn’t. He felt the ground fall out from underneath him. James had a chance and now it slipped through his hands. He left M’s townhouse and disappeared into the night.

~Q~

James knew he was a physical wreck, but it wasn’t until he was actually doing the routine test did he know exactly how bad off he was. He struggled with the marksmanship tests and he probably failed the psych evaluation. He really didn’t care. Q was gone.  

James assumed Alec had told Q about his ‘death’. Alec was on a mission and wouldn’t be able to return to speak to James. It was okay. He didn’t want to hear how the man reacted to news. James knew Q had feared losing him and James had reassured him not to worry. James knew he was a fool.

Despite everything that was working against James, he still knew he was the best man for the job. And M knew it too. He gave M the only real lead they had to the whereabouts of the hard drive and the list of embedded agents. He literally cut it out of his body for M.

Tanner showed him the photo ID of Patrice, and James knew him immediately. It was a thread that they could pull and unravel the whereabouts of the bomber.

“Tanner will put in touch with the new Quartermaster.” M said as Bond started to leave. “He hasn’t finished setting up shop yet.” Bond agreed and opened the door. “Oh, and Bond . . . you are ready, aren’t you.”

Bond looked at her. He couldn’t tell if that was honest concern for him or doubt. He wasn’t certain he wanted to know.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded to her and left.

~Q~

James sat in front of the Turner wondering which of Boothroyd’s minions would be taking the old man’s place. He thought about Anne. She had been there the longest. She was intelligent and reasonable. Far more so than the old ‘major’. There was also Danielle. She had been the ‘go to’ person for computers. James wondered how difficult it would be for him to listen to a woman give him orders on the comm links.

He saw the movement out of his peripheral vision. A male, dark hair, pale skin, black coat. The man sat down beside James and stared forward.

“Always makes me a little melancholy.”

James knew that voice.

“A grand old warship being ignominiously hauled away for scrap. The inevitability of time don’t you think? . . . What do you see?”

Q.

“A bloody big ship.” James felt a sharp pain in his chest. This couldn’t be happening. Q couldn’t be here. Not now. Not when he was going to have to leave again. James could hear the bitter accusation in the man’s voice. _‘being hauled away for scrap’_ He wasn’t ready for this meeting. He didn’t know what to say. How to explain why he did what he did. Q hated him and if he spoke Q would hate him more. “Excuse me.” James went to stand.

“007, I’m you’re new quartermaster.” Q said softly.

James collapsed back down. “You must be joking?” Q had to be joking, but then again how would he know James was waiting for a quartermaster to arrive.

“Why because I’m not wearing a lab coat?”

“Because you have spots.” Always the jab about the man’s age.

James turned and looked at the young man he had spent the last five years living with. Q seemed older. His hair was still the wild nest of dark curls, but his face didn’t have the same innocent expression. The youthful spirit was missing. Q was wearing his glasses that James had bought him, but he didn’t recognize any of his other clothing. 003’s influence.

“I assure you my complexion is hardly relevant.” A sharp tone to Q’s voice.

“But your competency is.”

“Age is no guarantee of efficiency.”

“And youth no guarantee of innovation.”

What was Bond saying, he knew Q was the best computer expert he had ever met. The boy at fifteen had hacked into Universal Exports and discovered it was a cover. He had helped Bond track down a bomber. He achieved his PhD in half the normal time. He had been hired to lecture at Imperial when Bond had . . . had blown the young man’s world apart and disappeared.

“Q.”

“007.” The young looked at him. James felt a knife in his stomach. Q was smiling at him, but it wasn’t the warm smile he remembered. It was the smile Q had just before he destroyed someone.

“I’m . . .”

“Don’t say it. It is irrelevant now anyway.” Q reached into his coat and removed an envelope. “Your travel documents and passport for Shanghai.”

The comment burned through Bond. Irrelevant. Was that what he was to the man now? Irrelevant. They had kissed. They had made promises. And James knew he was the one who broke them. James took the envelope and didn’t even open it. Q handed him a black case.

“Walther PPK with palm print recognition in the grip. More of a personal statement and less of a random killing machine. “

James wondered if the comment was directed at him or the gun.

“We need to talk.”

“No, we do not.” Q stood and started to walk away. “Oh, and do bring everything back in working order.” A hint of a smiled passed over Q’s lips so quickly, James thought for a moment it was his imagination. Then Q was gone. And James sat wondering what rabbit hole he had just fallen through.

~Q~

James answered the door to hotel room to see Eve standing there. She was truly the last person he really wanted to see. She had been walking around on egg shells around him and it made him nervous.

“I have information and Q doesn’t like to fly.” She said as she followed him into the room.

He wondered if Q had ever been in an airplane or was that just an excuse he gave to avoid seeing Bond.

“Of course he doesn’t.”

Eve told him of the first five names being released. He was relieved to find out Alec’s cover hadn’t been blown yet. His best friend was in the Ukraine infiltrating a terrorist group. James needed to work quickly to save Alec.

James wondered about Q. How angry was the young man at him. He obviously didn’t want to see Bond and was avoiding him. That was the reason he texted James instead of calling him with the information about Patrice.

~Q~

When James had sent the distress signal he wondered how long it would take Q to respond to it. After forty-five minutes, James stepped out of the building with Silva. James looked up at the sky while putting on his sunglasses and saw no one coming to the rescue. He thought the young man had abandoned him. He really couldn’t blame Q.

Silva’s arrogance gave James the chance to capture him. In a matter of seconds he had killed four of Silva’s men and had his gun pointed at the Spaniard. That’s when James saw the three attack helicopters Q had sent to rescue him. He smiled smugly. The young protégé was as good as he said.

James stood watching Q work in TSS. The young man never looked at the agent as he quickly hacked into Silva’s computer. Studying the various programs, James smirked as Q explained he was the creator of the system Silva was using. James knew the boy was good. He just didn’t realize how good. He was proud of the young man.

James realized he had underestimated Q for years. Every time Q had told him how good he was, James had considered it only youthful bravado. But now standing in TSS, he saw how special and unique the young man was.

It wasn’t until, James was chasing Silva under the city that the two slipped into their old ways. Finishing each other’s sentences. The obvious relief in Q’s voice when James finally pushed through the door and jumped out of the way of the train. It took the attack in Whitehall for James and Q to know how much they meant to each other.

“Q, I need you do something for me.” James said. The young man didn’t even blink an eye.

“I suppose this is not official.”

“Not in the least.”

“So much for my career in espionage.”

Q did as he was asked and withheld the information from his superiors just because James asked him to.

~Q~

Q climbed out of the helicopter onto the frigid Scottish moor. The fire was still burning in the distance. James’ family home. Q remembered James had said he wanted to take Q some place special before he disappeared. The young man stood for a moment watching the flames. He wondered if this was the place James wanted to bring him.

He walked into the small stone chapel and saw the two body bags. His heart raced until he saw the man sitting in the front pew. His shoulders slumped, his head bowed. Q stepped up behind James and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.

James turned and looked at Q. The young man could see the pain and sadness.

“Let’s go home, James.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter will be short and fluffy. It will be up soon.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Q come to an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and kudos. You have given me such wonderful encouragement.

Q opened the door of James’ old building. He walked up to the reception desk and addressed the two guards. James didn’t recognize them.

“Greg, Lloyd, this is my friend, James. He will be staying here for a few days.”

“Yes, Mister Bond. Thank you for signing him in.”

James followed as Q stepped away and went to the lift. He swiped the card and the doors opened. James waited till the doors were closed on the lift before looking at Q.

“Mister Bond?”

“Yes.” Q didn’t explain further. The lift doors opened to the familiar floor. Q went and unlocked the door to the flat that used to belong to James.

“M told me they had sold the flat.”

“They did, sort of.” Q hung his coat on the rack that he had placed by the door and toed off his shoes.

James entered his old flat and looked around. Everything was almost the same. The same leather sofa and chairs, the same black coffee table and painting on the walls. It even still carried the light scent of his cologne. The only difference was next to the framed photo of Alec and James on the mantle, there was a second photo in an identical frame. It was a photo of Q and James.

In the photograph, both men were laughing. James was looking off the right of the photographer. He face was relaxed and he was caught in mid-laugh. His mouth open, his eyes partially closed. Q was looking at James. His hand resting softly on the man’s shoulder. Q’s face was smiling and his eyes shined with devotion and love at James. It was a perfect photo. James didn’t know when it had been taken or who had taken it. But he wish he had a copy of it.

“How did you end up with the flat?” James asked looking around the living room. He finally noticed different books on the shelves and a new throw fold on the arm of the sofa. Small changes here and there.

“Tanner told me you were . . . dead.” Q moved and sat down on the couch. “He was surprised to find me here and had me arrested. You see, when I was fifteen and used you as a contact person, Tanner did a background check on me. After they found me here, Tanner remembered me from hospital. He did another background check and came up with nothing. That person was gone. No trace remained of Quain Thibodaux. Instead he found your cousin, Quinten Bond living in your flat. He was quite shocked because he knew you didn’t have any living relatives, but he couldn’t figure out where I came from.”

“No trace? I knew you made up a new identity but . . . how did you erase yourself?”

“Tanner asked the same question. Instead of telling him, I told him about Universal Exports and showed him the mistakes in the system. After that I was given a choice.”

“Which was?”

“MI6 or jail. The flat was an inducement to choose MI6.”

“You chose MI6.”

“Not much of a choice. Both were a form of incarceration. I started in their cyberterrorism division and moved up the ladder quickly. Danielle helped me and Anne taught me how to play the politics. When the Major was killed, both of them put my name up for the new director of TSS.”

“And who are you now?”

“Q. The Quartermaster. Any other name is classified and you don’t have clearance.”

James frowned. He stepped around his former flat and looked at the room. “You didn’t change much.”

“I liked it the way it was. Your clothes and papers are gone. All the mementos from your missions were taken too. I sleep in the master bedroom now, instead of the guest room. Alec sleeps there whenever he is in country. 008 is still two floors down and Carmine takes me clothes shopping routinely. They all still look out for me even though I am their superior now.” Q sat down on the couch and leaned back. He crossed his long legs and folded his arms over his chest looking up at Bond. “Have you found a new flat yet?”

James was thrown by the question.

“No. I haven’t been looking.”

“Not planning on sticking around, I take it.” Q narrowed his eyes. He sounded bitter.

James moved around the coffee table and went to sit down next to Q. When James sat too close, Q slid down the sofa away from him.

“I am sorry for faking my death, Q.”

“I read the transcript of the mission. I know what M did. I know she ordered Eve to take the shot. I can understand why you would want to walk away from M and England and MI6. You felt betrayed. There was nothing holding you here . . . and I guess I wasn’t worth returning too . . .”

“I didn’t want to leave you.” James interrupted. Q blinked as he stumbled over the words.

“But . . . you did. You walked away . . . from me . . . And why wouldn’t you. Some scrawny young computer geek who had a misplaced hero worship. Of course you would walk away if not run. But you came back.”

“I came back to you.” James leaned forward and took Q’s hand.

“No you didn’t.” He pulled his hand away. “You came back to her. To M . . . because she needed her faithful little terrier. Or maybe bulldog is a better description. A crazed dog who is stupid enough to grab a wild bull by the nose and not let go. I could handle you leaving. I could even handle you dying. I knew you were going to. I even told you as much. I just can’t handle the fact that you came back to those who betrayed you and never sought me out.”

James could taste bile in his mouth.

“I didn’t know where to look.” James knew it was a feeble excuse even as he gave it. He swallowed his pride and spoke. “I didn’t think you would want to see me again afterwards . . . You wouldn’t want me back.”

“Why?”

“What?

“Why wouldn’t I want you back? Why would you think that?”

“I knew M thought I was played out. Too old. I thought I was used up. Empty. There was nothing a value left to give you.”

“Nothing to give me?” Q’s voice broke. “Do you know what you had already given me? And don’t think I wanted you physically because of some misguided need to pay you back. I already made plans for that before I kissed you. I was going to make you give up your life of crime and take you away.”

“My life of crime?”

“What else was I to think with your comings and goings and all the injuries. Yes, I thought you and Alec were working for organized crime. And I had made enough money to hide us so no one could find us. I even used the fake passport you gave me to make new ones for you and me. I want to help you, protect you. Let you finally be safe, because . . . because along the way I fell for you. Not some misplace hero worship but you. Your smug little smirk as you talk to someone you think is an idiot. Your ridiculously expensive wardrobe. Your jazz music. Your need to wear t-shirts till they are so old and ratty they fall apart in the wash. The way you sit and watch football, balancing a beer on your thigh. I love all of that, and . . . you.”

James sat with a stunned expression on his face. So many people had told him they were in love with him over the years. So many marks. But hearing those words from Q was the most unbelievable and welcomed revelation. Q moved forward and cupped James’ face with both of his palms.

“Alec and Carmine wouldn’t leave me the first month. They stayed with me constantly because they feared what I would do without you. I don’t want to be without you. I want to touch you and taste you. Feel you in my arms and next to me. James . . . I’m in love with you. Please understand, you are everything to me. You are not empty. You are not worthless.”

James wrapped his arms around the young man’s waist and pulled him onto the blonde’s lap. The kiss was clumsy as they tried to fight for dominance. It took a moment for James to relax and let Q lead. The young man’s tongue swept over the older man’s lower lip and James opened up to Q’s questing. James sighed as he tasted Q. The sweetness of tea and oranges and a raw musk that made the older man light headed. His hands moved, his palms spreading out to hold Q tighter and closer. It felt right, it felt good. It felt like home.

~Q~

Early the next morning, James laid in the half light of dawn. It was a new bed and new sheets but his old bedroom. Tangled next to him was a warm young man. Q’s long thin arms and legs encircled him and held him tight. A mess of dark curls rested on his shoulder while he felt the soft breath across his throat of Q’s breathing. James was relaxed and finally felt good. No pain, no anxiety.

He thought about heroes and who they really are. The definition was ‘a person of distinguished courage or ability, admired for their brave deeds and noble qualities.’ He wondered if that would apply to him. No one would ever accuse him of being noble; but Q was noble. James knew it applied to the young man in his arms. His bright and shining hero.

Maybe instead of being distinguished, it was more important to do the right thing at the right time. He thought back to that night so many years ago. When he walked up to three strangers and threatened them away from a forth. He wasn’t trying to be heroic, he was just doing the right thing. And he thanked God he did.

He held Q a little tighter and kissed the dark curls tickling the side of his face. If he was a hero it was to Q. A tarnished hero with scars and blemishes. But Q’s hero still the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to extend the story to Spectre but decided against it. I was watching the trailer for the movie and thought the about how Q would answer Bond.  
> "What else do you need?"  
> "Make me disappear."  
> "Only if you take me with you."  
> I think that would be such a cool plot line. So there is a prompt. I hope you write a story along that line. 
> 
> You have all been so encouraging, I've decide to go back to some of my original novellas and work them over and see if I can someone interested in publishing them. So you won't be hearing from me for awhile. Thank you all again. You have be wonderful.


End file.
